Sebastian & Therese
by eyrianone
Summary: Sometimes love is so strong it spans more than one lifetime. . .
1. Chapter 1

Title: Sebastian & Therese

Rating: T

Author: Eyrianone

Disclaimer: Bastian and Therese are mine; Booth and Brennan on the other hand belong to some other lucky Canuck.

Summary: Sometimes love is so strong it spans more than one lifetime. . .

Prologue:

Berkley Castle, Gloucestershire, England

December 2nd 2010.

The picture gallery of Berkley Castle is long and sunny filled with antiques and elegant oil portraits of past members of the Earl of Gloucester's family. The portraits date back as far as the late seventeenth century and the 1st Earl, but it is those from the nineteenth century that have drawn Brennan here.

Anxiously she scans them until she finds the one she's looking for, a family portrait of the seventh Earl of Gloucester – Sebastian Augustus Berkley, his wife Therese and their five children. The caption below the painting is dated 1827, eleven years after they were married in 1816. The painting is a little dirty and not very well lit; the current Earl like many in the aristocracy is struggling to hold onto his family's estate under modern running costs that make it harder every year. Opening large parts of the castle to the public and running it as an extremely expensive and luxurious hotel have managed to allow the Berkley's to retain their home, but restoring dusty old portraits to their former glory has not been a priority.

For Brennan though the painting is what has brought her here. On vacation in England she's been called upon to lend her expertise in identifying the remains of a graveyard ripped apart by landslides. Thirty graves slid down a precarious hillside location and identifying and re-interning the remains requires someone with her knowledge and skills with old bones. The last burial in the small churchyard dates to 1902 and so Brennan agreed to extend her stay in England to assist.

Utilizing church records of the destroyed gravesites and having Angela assist remotely with facial reconstruction; Brennan had re-identified twenty graves before she came across him. Sebastian Augustus Berkley, Earl of Gloucester left behind a robust skeleton. Tall and athletic his bones told the story of a full and active life that ended in a riding accident at age sixty eight. His facial reconstruction however had caused a very amused phone call from Angela and though Brennan had triple checked it for an error she could not find one. Though the face is older the resemblance is remarkable, Sebastian Berkley and Seeley Joseph Booth look like twins.

They say everyone has a doppelganger, and Brennan had put the resemblance down as a highly amusing story to share with her partner on her return, until she found Therese. Sebastian's beloved wife the Countess of Gloucester, who had been married to the Earl for thirty two years upon his death and who had borne him five children; upon finding her Brennan's curiosity began to run rampant.

Checking out of her hotel and into the Berkley's ancestral home, Brennan found herself falling in love with place instantly. The sense of history, family, permanence was everywhere and she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd been here before, as impossible as she knew that to be. Determined to find some other corroboration of Angela's findings, Brennan went in search of the family portraits as soon as she learned of their existence.

Gazing up at the painting now that she's found it, Brennan finds her breath catching in her throat. The family in the picture smile happily for the painter, five children, three girls and two boys, the family dogs and finally the mother and father. Sebastian and Therese Berkley, an Earl and his Countess, long dead copies of not only Booth but of Brennan too . . .


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter One: A call to duty.

'Gloucester House'

London England,

May 1816

Sebastian Berkley, known to all simply as 'Bastian' sat behind his cluttered desk in his London home and eyed his cousin Alastair with distain.

Six foot two with dark brown wavy hair, deep brown eyes and a sinfully handsome face, the seventh Earl of Gloucester was an impressive man. Often described as 'dangerously attractive' the Earl was used to getting his own way and living his life as hedonistically as he pleased. The current topic of conversation then was something that, at thirty five he'd been putting off for years and would put off still longer if not for the constant pressure from his step-mother – the Dowager Countess Alathea Berkley.

"_You need not look at me like that Bastian, it's not like I'm telling you anything you don't already know. Alathea is right, its high time you married whether you like the notion or not. It's not as if your wife – whoever she may end up being – is going to demand you change your rakehell ways. Once you have secured the succession, I'm sure she'll be as happy as a clam to let you go back to whoring your way around London_." Alastair's amused twinkle did nothing to improve Bastian's mood.

"_I don't whore my way around London Alex, I carry on select liaison's with various bored wives and widows and the occasional member of the demi-monde who are paid handsomely for their skills. I simply don't wish to marry; if it wasn't for the succession I would never consider it_."

Alastair Berkley smiled in sympathy. "_You have no choice Bastian, you are your father's only son and if you don't sire the next Earl legitimately then cousin Oscar will inherit the Earldom and we are all sadly doomed._"

At the mention of his current heir, their cousin Oscar, a sickly simpering fool four years younger than Bastian who had never been with a woman in his life, Bastian cringed.

"_Point taken. It's just the thought of having to attend every damned function in London that's getting me down. Once all the match-making mama's peg I'm finally going to select a bride I'll be hounded everywhere I go. God I'll even be forced to venture into Almacks won't I?"_

Alastair's smile widened considerably. "_Bastian Berkley at the marriage mart. Now that's something I'll definitely come and see. This season's debutantes won't know what's hit them._"

Bastian covered his face with his hands and laid his head on his desk in disgust. "_Deb's oh saint's preserve us what am I going to do?_"

"_Pick one you can talk too, who's reasonably attractive and get the deed over with as soon as you can. You aren't looking to make a love-match Bastian, but you need a girl of breeding and fortune who you can at least be companionable with. A suitable mother for the next Earl, how hard can it be?_"

Bastian groaned loudly. "_Easy for you to say old chap, you don't have to do it_."

Sitting back in his chair opposite Bastian's huge desk, Alastair grinned smugly. "_Duty calls my Lord, perils of privilege and all that._"

"_Hell's teeth Alex please don't start with the duty lecture, I've been getting that one from Alathea for the last four years, and she even had the cheek to imply I would be too long in the tooth to do my duty if I waited much longer. Honestly it's too much when one's own step-mother starts critiquing one's sex life_."

Alastair roared with laughter. "_Alathea clearly doesn't spend enough time in town. Your reputation is atrocious Bastian, you're the most accomplished rake I know and your mistresses are the prettiest in London_."

Bastian grinned wickedly. "_That they are Alex, and long may it continue. By the way do you think Alathea will object too much if I bring Lady Somerset to her house party next week?_"

Alastair had the good grace to look thoroughly horrified. "_Bastian even you cannot possibly expect to house your mistress at your estate while looking for a suitable bride_."

Bastian looked chagrined. "_I suppose not. And God's knows who Alathea has invited, I suppose I'll just have to grin and bear it, who knows, maybe she's found me the perfect girl and I'll be safely wed before the season even starts._"

"_One can hope Bastian, one can hope_." Alastair agreed.

Three days later at the end of a very long ride from London, Bastian finally arrived at his principal residence, the sprawling Berkley Castle in Gloucester, some 130 miles west of the capital. The May weather had turned decidedly cold and stormy and by the time the Earl turned his horse Lucifer into the home stretch of his mile long driveway he was cold, tired and soaked to the skin.

As he pulled Lucifer up short in front of the main entrance a waiting groom ran to assist him, and throwing the reins to the lad he climbed the front stairs. The main door swung open at his approach, the ever efficient Butler 'Dobbs' waiting for his master as usual.

"_Welcome home my Lord_." Dobbs deep cultured voice was somber as always.

"_Brandy Dobbs . . . in my study at once."_

"_Of course my Lord. Lady Alathea wanted to see you in the drawing room once you arrived my Lord, shall I announce you or . . . ?_"

"_Lady Alathea can wait_."

"_Very well my Lord. I'll bring your drink at once."_

Bastian turned to his left and stalking down the corridor towards his study he passed the library door which opened at his approach. The occupant was in a hurry and not seeing Bastian in her way collided with him hard. Bastian reacted quickly to steady her and pulling her towards him found himself gazing down into the most beautiful blue eyes he'd ever beheld. Eyes set in a heavenly face with porcelain skin and delicately arched brows. Bastian's gaze drifted down to note a pair of lush full lips and the desire to kiss them immediately made itself known.

The woman in his arms frowned at him and wriggled furiously to be released. Reluctantly he complied unable to stop himself from opening perusing her elegant figure that even the somewhat worn and drab gown she was wearing was unable to fully disguise.

"_I beg your pardon my Lord_." Her voice was smooth and warm. "_Do excuse me_."

She turned to go and watching her walk quickly away Bastian felt suddenly bereft. Who the devil was she and what was she doing in his home? She seemed aware of who he was and yet she hadn't bothered to introduce herself. She wasn't dressed well enough to be one of Alathea's house guests and yet she didn't seem like a servant either. Bastian continued on to his study and within moments Dobbs arrived with his much needed brandy. As the butler turned to leave Bastian halted him.

"_Dobbs._"

"_Yes my Lord_."

"_I met a woman coming out of the library, are there new additions to my staff I should be aware of?"_

"_Lady Alathea hired a new governess for your sister's my Lord; a Miss Therese Brandon."_

Another one? Had the terrible twins really run off another governess? Good lord.

"_That explains it. Thank you Dobbs, you may go_."

Alone in his study Bastian sank into his favorite chair and contemplated the new addition to his household. Swirling the brandy around his glass he sighed in frustration. A governess would be gently bred and completely off-limits, it would the outside of enough for him to even consider her seduction, and yet her beautiful face had entranced him completely. Well, well, he would just have to learn more of the beautiful Miss Therese Brandon. A lot more. . .


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Two: Just a fascinating coincidence.

Berkley Castle, England

Dec 2010

Brennan's cell phone goes off late that night, just as she's finally settling into slumber in the huge four-poster antique bed in her room. Reluctantly reaching to the nightstand to grab it, see stares unseeing at the overly bright screen for a moment before it registers that her midnight caller is Angela Montenegro; Angela has clearly forgotten there is five hour time differential between Washington D.C and England.

Punching the call accept button she mumbles her name sleepily into the phone. Angela doesn't catch it.

"_Bren is that you?_"

Brennan tries again, more clearly this time. "_It's me Ang_."

Angela is all bubbling enthusiasm. "_So did you find the portrait? Do these 1816 Berkley's still look just like you and Booth in the painting? Man this is SO cool, I'm really tripping out about it actually, I called Avalon too because I really think she can tell us more about it._"

Brennan frowns. "_Avalon Harmonia?_"

"_Of course Avalon Harmonia, how many Avalon's do you think I know? Remember what she told us about you and Booth being linked in a very profound way, I'm thinking she might have meant more than we realized._"

"_I_ _don't know what that means?_"

She hears Angela sigh softly. "_Past lives Brennan that's what that means. Maybe you and Booth are souls destined to meet in each life time and fall madly in love with each other._"

Brennan snorts. "_First of all Booth is in love with Hannah and not with me and second of all, Angela that's ridiculous. I will grant you the fact that the facial resemblance is remarkable but it's just a fascinating coincidence. Many people's facial structures are similar, it's far more likely that Booth and I might be both distantly related to these people. The fact that Booth and I are acquainted with each other and work together is just really interesting in conjunction with that._"

Angela sighs. "_Bren you have no romance in you whatsoever. Aren't you even intrigued by the possibility of reincarnation?_"

Brennan answers immediately. "_No because it isn't real and has no basis in scientific inquiry. When you're dead, you're dead; there is nothing beyond that and certainly no possibility of coming back and being reborn again as someone new._" The words come easily enough out of her mouth, and though she believes it her presence at Berkley Castle, her feelings for the place and her own deep intrigue about the Berkley's belies her standard answer. She isn't certain why she's here, why she felt compelled to come. She could have remained in the hotel where she was, it was closer to the lab space she's using to identify the graveyard remains, and it was certainly cheaper, not that she lacks for funds. But since their seven month separation she's felt an increasing distance from Booth, one that expanded dramatically when he returned from Afghanistan with Hannah Burley in tow.

Though their partnership has been resumed, things just haven't been the same. Booth doesn't treat her the way he used to; he isn't crowding himself into every aspect of her life and being possessive of her anymore. She doesn't spend the same amount of time with him, and they don't talk or even bicker in their old way now. She misses him, even when they are together.

It's one of the reasons for her sudden vacation to England. A random e-mail offering her a great deal on flights using her Airmiles and she suddenly decided a few weeks away would be great. It's unlike her to want to escape work, work is her life, and yet though she hasn't wanted to face the fact that she needed a break from having to watch Booth and Hannah be so loving all the time, that is in fact the truth of it. She's finding it really hard to accept Booth's new relationship status, even though she thought it's what she wanted for him. Talk about a case of 'careful what you wish for.'

Angela's urgent urging in her ear brings her back from her musings and she realizes with a start that she's been quiet too long.

"_Bren are you still there, talk to me_."

"_Sorry Ang, it's just really late and I was half asleep when you called_."

There is a pause the other end and then she hears cursing. "_Crap, forgot the time difference. Sorry Brennan, you go back to sleep and I'll call you when I've consulted with Avalon. I'm telling you Bren I just have this feeling about this, I know you don't believe in this sort of thing but I'm investigating anyway, so be graceful and indulge me._"

Brennan feels herself smile. "_I can do that. Night Ang, I'll talk to you soon._"

Angela hangs up and Brennan decides to turn her cell off for a while. Apart from Angela there really isn't anyone she wants to converse with right now, she certainly isn't expecting Booth to check in on her. The thought hurts, and it's strange because it shouldn't. She's always hated to be seen as vulnerable or in any way incapable of looking after herself; but at one point in time Booth would have been constantly checking up on her and now he isn't. Deep down inside resides a deepening fear that she has been replaced in Booth's heart, and as this fear grows so does the realization that she never wanted that to happen. She rejected his love, told him 'NO' quite emphatically when he approached her all those months ago and wanted them to try for something more than their friendship. It should not bother her that he's moving on romantically and has found someone wonderful who does want him that way, it shouldn't matter, but it does.

Maybe that's why she's so caught up in a two hundred year old love story between two people who look so much like her and Booth.

She's tired and she has no answers, not now. But as she falls closer to sleep she comes to at least one conclusion, she has to know more about Sebastian and Therese, even if she cannot explain even to herself why.

The following morning she wakes up rested, refreshed and famished so she indulges in only a quick soak in her glorious claw-footed tub and then heads to the breakfast parlor in search of sustenance. It's Friday and she will be heading back to her temp-lab to work on some more identifications this afternoon, but as she was originally on vacation she's taking the morning to explore the castle some more. It's the off-season for the hotel and yet they seem to be quite busy, when she called to make a reservation only the hotel's more expensive rooms were vacant and the one she selected is known as the 'Countesses Suite', what she wants to discover today is if the name of her room is at all accurate.

Her inquiries with the hotel's front desk tell her something she's surprised to discover she already suspected. The rooms that for generations have actually been used by each Earl and Countess are in the west-wing of the castle that remains the home of the Berkley family. Her room, named for the Countess of Gloucester is actually the second largest of the castle's guest rooms with the largest chamber of all being the 'Earl's Suite.' From a hotel marketing standpoint it makes complete sense, but Brennan finds herself desperately wanting to see the room that Therese would have used. As luck would have it as she's thanking the hotel clerk for the information a deep voice to her right speaks up.

"_You must be Dr. Temperance Brennan_."

Brennan turns to see who is speaking.

"_I am . . . and you would be?_"

"_Richard Berkley, Earl of Gloucester. We are most delighted to have you staying with us Dr. Brennan; I'm a very big fan of your books_."

The Earl is about Booth's height with light brown hair and a handsome face. He's not nearly as attractive as her partner but then very few men are. Still he may be just the person Brennan needs to make an acquaintance of right now so she smiles widely and holds out her hand to him. The Earl engulfs her hand in his and then instead of shaking it, he chivalrously bends over her hand and raising it to his lips he brushes the briefest kiss over her knuckles.

Brennan is startled momentarily, but recovers quickly. "_I am delighted to meet you, ah . . ., _She struggles for the correct manner of address, _". . . my Lord_."

The Earl's charming smile widens. "_Dear Dr. Brennan, please call me Richard_."

Brennan smiles back. "_Temperance_." She responds.

"_Forgive me for eavesdropping on your conversation with my staff here, but I heard you asking about the guest rooms, is there something wrong, may I be of any assistance Temperance?"_

"_I was wondering whether the room I have – the 'Countesses Suite' was actually the room used by the Countess in the past. It's absolutely beautiful, but I confess I'm somewhat intrigued by the Castle, it's history, and since I recently identified the remains of Countess Therese Berkley I was wondering about how the castle must have looked in her time_."

Richard Berkley extends his arm. "_I would be only too delighted Temperance to show you around myself, and if you would like to see the parts of the castle that are still occupied by my family, I am happy to share them with you_."

It's too tempting an offer to resist. Still she feels it's only polite to say . . . "_I don't wish too intrude, I'm sure your family would prefer to remain undisturbed?"_

The Earl looks sad for moment, the emotion so fleeting on his face she wonders if she imagined it. "_I am the only Berkley in residence Temperance, and it's not an intrusion at all to show off my home to so beautiful and accomplished a visitor_. _I would be honored to share it with you."_

Perfect she thinks.

"_Then I would love to see everything."_ She says honestly, and tucking her arm through the Earl's she lets him lead the way.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Three: Such dreams are these.

Berkley Castle, England

May 1816

Therese Brandon woke early that morning and decided almost immediately that she would forgo breakfasting in the main parlor in favor of breakfasting alone in her room.

Normally she liked the parlor and enjoyed listening to the chatter of her twin thirteen year old charges – Lady Eliza Berkley and her sister Lady Alicia Berkley; the twins were rambunctious and full of joie de vivre. They were so unlike their extremely proper and somewhat disapproving mother the Dowager Countess Alathea Berkley, and she found this difference to be highly entertaining. Under usual circumstances that is.

Now things have changed at Berkley Castle, the castle's master is in residence, and frankly she thinks the less she has to do with the Earl of Gloucester the better.

Sebastian Berkley is a known rake, a famous seducer of women, unmarried and probably one of the most eligible bachelors in the haute ton. He's also the most beautiful man Therese has ever seen, and even before she met him last night, however brief that meeting was, Therese knew she had developed an unhealthy fascination with him.

Earls marry wealth and position. They marry eligible young ladies of breeding, beauty and fortune who have large dowries or estates that will enhance their own. They don't marry for love and they certainly don't marry impoverished governesses even if they are from gentile families. Therese may be the daughter of Sir William Brandon but as her parents are both deceased and her older brother has gambled away every penny their parents left them, Therese is left alone to make her own way in the world.

Being a governess is not a great life, but it's not the work house either. It's a strange half-life, neither servant nor master, existing on the outside of both the world above stairs and the world below it and belonging to neither.

Thankfully when her parents were alive she was educated to a high degree and as such is eminently qualified to teach the darlings of the aristocracy, and teach them she must.

Eliza and Alicia have told her much about their half-brother, whom it's patently clear they both adore. Therese has come to the conclusion that half the trouble the twins have caused in the past is simply their way of trying to attract Sebastian's attention, he spends so much time away in London and the girls miss him dreadfully.

She's only met him for a second and she doesn't blame them. In her three months as their governess they have spoken of him every day, how much fun he is, how handsome, how brave. What a good landlord he tries to be and how much his tenants respect him. Of course the twins have no real idea about his 'rakish' aspects, they are still too young to be concerned with such things, but their perspective of him as a generally fine man still shines through. In the portrait gallery of the castle there is marble bust of Sebastian, and a portrait painted for his twenty first birthday, nine years before his father died and he became the Earl. The portrait is done in fine oils and depicts a handsome face, but the bust done for his thirtieth birthday has mesmerized Therese since she first laid eyes on it.

The marble is ivory and warm to the touch, his face carved with immense skill and faithfulness as all have told her it's a great likeness. Many days since she's been here she's stopped to admire it, there is something about his face that speaks to her of long buried dreams where she is still wealthy and could look forward to good match and a family of her own. The life she was raised to lead has long since been stolen from her, and though she mourns its passing she doesn't dwell it's not in her nature.

Still, when she gazes at the bust she wonders about marriage, about having children, about love. She doesn't imagine Sebastian would rate love very highly, few men do, but she still cannot help but be drawn to him in way she knows can only lead to heartache.

She is not an eligible match for an Earl, all such a man would ever offer her is a position as his mistress and that is not a life she could be persuaded to live. To be shunned by decent folks and whispered about behind her back, to bear children with no legal rights who would constantly be forced to pay a price for their parents' sin. She doesn't truly imagine a man such as he would find her attractive to begin with, she's too tall and far too old, at the ripe age of twenty nine she's considered decidedly on the shelf.

Best not to court trouble though; here in the wilds of Gloucestershire there are not the same entertainments for him as in London, and although her position should put her off limits she's been forced to leave positions in the past when the master of the house showed too great an interest in her.

Her breakfast arrives on a tray and she thanks the maid with a warm smile and dismisses her. She tries to eat but finds her appetite gone as always happens when she's distracted.

Therese sighs. If only he were old, or unattractive life would be so much simpler, instead he has to be the most perfect specimen of masculinity she can imagine. If he were to show even the slightest interest in her, she's sure his step-mother would have her dismissed without a character in an instant, and she likes it here. The castle is beautiful and homely even if it is vast and rambling. The grounds are extensive, the family extremely wealthy and able to pay her a fine salary. The twins are amusing and intelligent and in need of her firm hand to guide them, she likes the household staff too, they are kind to her.

He probably won't stay long and then life will go back to normal, she'll be able to indulge in her fantasies about him in peace. Fantasies are safe; the actual flesh and blood man is lethal. He only held her for a moment to steady her, to allow her to find her footing last night when she walked into him hard, unseeing. And yet in that moment when she looked up into his warm brown gaze, saw his face in reality for the first time, she felt every nerve ending in her body tingle. Noticed his gaze drop to her lips and wanted nothing more than for him to lower his head and kiss her. Being in his arms felt like coming home, like she belonged there and this terrified her and brought her swiftly to her senses. She wriggled, he released her and she left without looking back or saying something foolish thank the lord.

Still she sees the danger here and it lies within. Sebastian will most likely ignore her, but if for any reason he doesn't she will be fighting with herself every inch of the way as she tries to resist him.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Four: A love revealed.

Berkley Castle, England

Dec 2010

Richard Berkley had been the most gracious of hosts, taking Brennan through every part of the castle and explaining its history in enormous detail for her. She'd had the most wonderful morning in his company as he patiently explained the original use of each room and how they'd adapted the castle when the conversion to a hotel had happened. He didn't seem upset she noticed that he'd been forced to open his home to the public and convert so much of it into the public domain. Conveniently the castle was a large 'U' shape and one full wing had been retained as the family residence. At the end of his tour of the public spaces he finally took her through a huge arched oak door on the first floor marked 'No Entry'' and began his tour of the private side of his home. Almost immediately Brennan noticed the change in the space. The public side was full of antique furniture combined with some more modern aspects, the private side was like stepping back in time completely. Here the Earl's personal furniture and drapery and carpets were worn but obviously originally of beautiful quality, there was an air of homeliness to it that made you instantly comfortable. It was lived in, used and completely entracing. Though the polish of the public side was missing, it somehow felt far more authentic to her.

Brennan stopped in his drawing room to admire the aspect from the large windows, looking out across the English countryside to the seven estuary and the hills of Wales beyond. Outside the weather was sunny but cold, a biting winter wind howling through the oak and elm trees and as she watched the strangest sense of deja-vue washed through her, as if she'd stood here and done this a hundred times before. Unsettled she turned to find the Earl watching her with curious eyes.

"_Is something wrong Temperance?" _he asked gently.

Brennan shook her head slowly. _"No. Not at all, it's simply so beautiful here, I'm strangely at peace in this room, like I've been here before, I think it's merely that it's such a comfortable room." _

The Earl smiled at her sincere compliment. _"I use this room a lot myself." _He said, indicating the very modern flat screen TV in the corner. _"The orignal drawing room is now a lounge for guests in the centre wing, this room was the Countesses' private sitting room, it has my favourite view of the grounds though, and as I still use the Earl's chambers for myself it was the logical choice." _ He pointed to a door in the far corner of the room, _"This room adjoins to the Countesses suite, would you like to see?"_

Strangely nervous for reasons she couldn't decide on Brennan nodded. Following his lead she crossed the room and went through the door into the most gorgeous bedchamber she'd ever seen. The room was huge, easily the same size as the sitting room behind her and with windows looking out on the same views of the grounds. An enormous mahogany four-poster bed dominated the far side of the room. Rich brocade fabrics shot through with gold-thread hung from the frame, draping lovingly around the highly polished wood which fairly gleamed in the sunlight. There was a counterpaine in the same fabric and beautifully embroidered cushions scattered at the head. The room was all shades of blue-green and white, with the rich brown furniture making it warm despite the cool tones of the fabrics. A large white chaise occupied space beneath the closest windows and in front of the huge stone fireplace at the foot of the bed two beautiful armchairs sat waiting to be occupied.

Though Brennan knew she'd never been here before, she also knew this room. The furniture, the colours it was so much to her tastes. A thought which stunned her as her home in Washington was full of eclectic and modern pieces, with treasures from her many travels dispersed throughout. She would never had considered this very English and decidely nineteeth century room to be her style at all, and it undeniably was. She wandered the room somewhat stunned and trying desperately to conceal it. Her fingers ran lovingly over the wooden furniture and the rich fabric drapery, entranced by the rich feel of it against her skin.

Somewhere deep inside she had a feeling that this room had been created especially for her, with every piece lovingly chosen and placed precisely where she would want it. It was competely absurd, it could not possibly be true, but the feeling was there, it persisted even in the face everything she knew to be real.

Finally she took a seat on the chaise beneath the window.

She looked up to find Richard watching her with a pleased expression in his hazel eyes. _"You like it." _He sounded somewhat amused.

Brennan nodded, _"How could I not, it's exactly how I pictured it."_

Richard smiled widely. _"The furniture is all original, it's been here for two hundred years, not always in this room, various family members have alternatively used it or placed it in storage. It was all bought for Therese you know, when she became Countess, Sebastian spoiled her with every fine thing he could. She was his entire world." _His tone was awed.

Brennan patted the space next to her on the chaise, indicating the Earl should join her. _"Tell me what you know about them Richard, since I identified their remains, I've been intrigued by them. Her facial reconstruction . . . it was done to aid my identification, but I'm sure you've noticed the resemblance she bears to me, I'm fascinated." _It was the literal truth.

_"I was wondering if you were aware of how much you look like her." _The Earl sat down next to her with a wry smile. _"I've known the story of them my whole life, it's a family legend I suppose. So great a love story that their children told their children and so on down. My own father used to tell me of them when I was little, he said their love was so strong Therese only lived a year after Sebastian died, she simply lost the will to live without him."_

Something cynical must have shown in Brennan's expression.

_"You don't believe you can die of a broken heart do you?"_

Brennan shook her head. _"I believe depression can lead to suicide, that it can cause many physical problems, so I suppose it could be said that sadness leading to clinical depression . . . what?"_

The Earl shook his head sadly. _"You're a scientist, I should have expected you to believe as you do, but let me tell you their story Temperance."_

_"You're right, I interrupted, please Richard, continue."_

The Earl's gaze drifts from Brennan as he turns slightly, looking out the windows and across the grounds. _"Bastian was the seventh Earl, and back then he was the head of a powerful and extremely wealthy family. In those days, the aristocracy rarely considered love as a suitable reason for marriage. It was a decision made rationally, often for financial reasons or the joining together of powerful families. Birth and social status were more important that you can imagine, and a young woman's reputation could be ruined by even being discovered alone in a room with the wrong man. Woman bore all the consequences socially, it was a man's world. Women had no rights, no votes, and once married they were truly considered to be their husbands property." _ The Earl turns to look at her again. _"Imagine that Temperance, picture a world like that."_

The Earl stands and walks to the window, gazing out he continues. _"A man's reputation on the other hand, especially if he was a nobleman, was only enhanced by his sexual conquests. And Bastian's reputation was truly atrocious, he was a consumate womanizer who managed to avoid marriage well into his thirties. It's said he didn't want to marry at all. but that pressure from his family to sire an heir finally became too much in the summer of 1816, when he returned home to the castle from London to attend a house party arranged by his step-mother. It was then that he met Therese. Therese was a governess, Bastian had two half sisters - twins, and Therese was the latest in a long line of governesses, only she apparently was the first to make a connection with them, the first the twins actually responded too. She was the daughter a knighted merchant, but she was poor and forced to work to support herself, she was a completely unsuitable match for an Earl. But Bastian wanted her."_

Brennan smiles. _"So he married her against the wishes of his family."_

The Earl laughs. _"Oh yes. At first though he offered the position of his mistress, he tried to seduce her. Therese was tough though, she wanted him too, but she would not allow him to debauch her. Though she fell deeply in love with him, she decided to leave her position and Bastian before she could succomb to their mutual desire."_

_"So she was strong woman." _Brennan can picture Therese's dilemma, Bastian is the image of Booth, and Booth is incredibly hard to resist.

There is a tone of immense respect in Richard's voice as he continues. _"She was the strongest of women, but before she could leave Berkley to look for another job she and Bastian were caught in a compromising embrace. Bastian's step-mother refused to give Therese a reference, she was to be turned out of the castle and her hopes of obtaining another good position were ruined. Bastian begged her to marry him, to take the protection of his name, but Therese loved him too much. She thought that if she married him, when he eventually turned from her and took a mistress she would not be able to stand it. She disappeared instead. Bastian was destroyed, he searched everywhere he could but for months he heard nothing of her. Finally he realized the only way he would get her back was if she believed he was sincere when he said he would marry her or no-one. He announced his decision to all of society, and many were convinced he'd lost his mind."_

_"Did he find her, or did she come back on her own?" _

"_He received a visit from her brother. Therese had run away to Scotland where she'd last heard her brother was. They'd become estranged when he gambled all their inheritance away but when she found him he'd married and turned his life around. He took her in, determined to make everything up to her, but Therese was depressed, not herself and she refused to tell her brother why. Then Therese got sick, she caught the measles from a village child and while sick and feverish she spoke of Bastian, of how much she loved and missed him. Her brother was concerned for her recovery, he left Therese in the care of his wife and journeyed to Gloucestershire to seek Bastian out. Once Bastian knew where she was, there was no stopping him coming for her. And when he did, Therese realized that he loved her as much as she loved him, and she agreed to be his wife. They were married by special license at once, and when Bastian returned from Scotland he brought his new bride with him. Society was shocked but neither of them cared, and the rest is history. They were the happiest of couples and with each child they added to their family their happiness grew."_

There is a wistful note in the Earl's voice as he concludes his story. She feels wistful about it herself. Though she is in fact still undecided about her own desire for children, there was once a time when she had committed to the idea completely. A commitment that wained when Booth was no longer willing to be her child's father. Long term commitment to another person, her achilles heel it seems, her inability to believe fully in love to have faith that it can last. This is what caused her to reject the only man she's ever allowed close, and now he's moving on without her and it's agony. She didn't see this coming, that though her partnership with Booth is intact the fact that she doesn't hold his heart in her hand anymore would be so devastating. Now that he has Hannah, only now does she see what she's lost, and how impossible that loss is going to be to live with.

Shaking off her melancholy she focuses instead on the gorgeous bedchamber Richard has brought her too.

"_How much does this room look like it did back then?" _She asks him.

The Earl looks around him. _"It's a guest room now, but I felt it should be as real as I could make it. For generations this was the room belonging to the Countess and as Therese has always been important me I wanted to make it hers again somehow. The furniture is all hers, including the armchairs. I pulled it together from her diaries, locating the pieces as she described them. Obviously the mattress and the fabrics are new, but are all the 'Berkley' pattern, a design Bastian created for her. Its been made by a local textile manufacturer for two hundred years, its a famous pattern, very popular all over the country, but it was hers first. So many things about the castle were created for Therese, its as if she inspired Bastian so much that he was compelled to create beauty in her honor. I've never experienced love like that myself."_

Brennan meets his gaze, a sadness that mirrors her own shines in his eyes. _"Neither have I." _She says in response, her heart aching. Then it hits her. _"Diaries? I have no right to ask you this, but would you let me read them?"_

For a moment something clouds Richard's eyes, an unnamable emotion passes across his face and then it's gone, he smiles in its wake.

_"Of course you can Temperance." _He says with a small smile. _"Come I'll get them for you."_ The Earl leads her from the room, taking one last long look around her Brennan follows him.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Five: And so it begins.

Berkley Castle, England

May 1816

Bastian entered the dining parlor that morning with anticipation running through his veins like a drug and his mood somewhat exuberant. By the end of the meal when it became obvious that his sister's new governess would not make an appearance and was most likely breakfasting in her rooms, his mood darkened. He wasn't sure exactly why. Certainly she was beautiful despite her drab clothes but he'd bedded many beautiful women, his current mistress Lady Sophia Somerset – the Viscountess Alderly among them.

And surely he wasn't seriously contemplating the seduction of an innocent, an employee to boot; he'd never done such a thing in his life. His preferences had always been for women with experience not blushing virgins he'd have to tutor and cherish. His fascination with Miss Therese Brandon had been immediate and acute though, and he truly wanted to see her again just to see if it was real, or merely a passing fancy that had paled in the morning light.

Finally he decided he'd at least inquire about her. Turning to his step-mother he asked what he hoped seemed an innocent question, his tone somewhat bored.

"_Alathea, tell me, how goes the twins education? Dobbs informed me the girls had managed to run off another governess and you'd hired a new one since I was last home."_

Looking a little nonplused his step-mother replied_. "Bastian honestly finding good staff these days is increasingly impossible. The twins are very sensitive poor dears, they are high-spirited girls and these governesses just cannot seem to handle them with the care and compassion required. Dobbs should not be gossiping about them."_

Trying valiantly to hide his smirk at her excuses for his sister's hellion behavior, he merely raised an eyebrow.

"_Why yes, since you ask I have retained a new teacher for the girls. A Miss Brandon, plain thing, very gangly but she is very highly qualified, comes with excellent references and though she focuses a little too much on their studies of math and sciences and not enough on music and sewing, I suppose she'll do. The girls seem rather fond of her actually."_

Amused at her physical description of a woman he would never term plain, Bastian said only . . . _"And how long has Miss Brandon been here?"_

Alathea looked thoughtful, _"About three months I think, I don't really pay her much mind."_ Her tone was vague, and reminded Bastian how far below him on the social stepladder Miss Brandon was seen to be.

Personally he'd never really looked at people that way. His parents had always treated everyone working for them with care and grace, and in return the estate had always retained a loyal workforce, Dobbs for example was Butler after his father and his father before him. After his mother's death in childbirth with a much longed for little brother, his father had remarried only to breed a back-up for Bastian. A plan he had abandoned when Alathea had presented him with twin girls, and he'd developed a healthy dislike of her. But he'd always taught his son a fierce sense of duty to those in his employ who depended on him for their jobs and their welfare. His privilege came with great responsibility and Bastian had never shirked it in his life. Except where providing his own heir came into question, and he was prepared to do his duty there as well, he just hoped he'd get on with his eventual wife better than his father and Alathea had managed. His parents he thought had been happy, it had been an arranged marriage of course, but they had known each other from childhood and always been friends. He hoped for that.

Pulling himself back to the matter at hand and his desire to learn more of Therese, he smiled at Alathea. _"I shall pay a visit to the school room I think, introduce myself and see if Miss Brandon requires anything to aid her in her tuition of my sisters. Do excuse me Alathea; I'll see you at luncheon."_

Alathea waved him on his way politely and returned to her breakfast.

Leaving the parlor Bastian nodded to various staff on his way to the school room all seemed happy to see him. Now that he was actually home he realized he'd missed the old place somewhat. He'd grown up here, started school here until he was old enough to go away to school, and though Gloucester House in London came with all myriad of enticements, Berkley was where he was most at peace. He loved to ride and his estate was extensive, the closest village of Almondsbury almost entirely his also. His heart was always here in the hills of Gloucestershire, he fancied it would be nice eventually to share the care of this place with someone who might love it also.

As he neared the school room door he could hear the gay laughter of his siblings and when he entered he went unnoticed for a couple of minutes as he observed both teacher and students enjoying a lively discussion on the merits of Shakespeare. It was only when Therese noticed he'd joined them and he saw her pale visibly that the twins turned to see him standing there and letting out shrieks of delight they fell upon him.

Laughing Bastian hugged both girls at once, one strong arm wrapping lovingly around each of them and squeezing. _"Hellions."_ He muttered good naturedly. _"How have you both been?"_

Lady Alicia, the older twin by three minutes and the one most like him as they both shared their father's dark coloring, answered him first. _"Bastian you beast you're home at last. Shall you ride out with us this afternoon, mother will never ride herself these days and Miss Brandon does not have her own horse. We gave old O'Brien the slip last time we were out so mother hasn't let us ride for three weeks. Oh do say you'll accompany us, mother won't say no if you are with us." _

Eliza, who had her mother's blond hair and pale skin, added her pleas to her sister's_. "Oh yes do come with us Bastian, you can tell us all the society news from London, for we long to go and mother will never consent to taking us with her when she goes up to town."_

Smiling at them both and for the moment pretending to ignore Therese although he was acutely aware of her presence, he saw the twins had provided an opportunity for him to hopefully acquaint himself with her better without raising suspicion.

"_I've missed you too brats."_ He said with amusement. _"But I hear you've only recently settled down to your studies and I'm not sure I should drag you away from them just to go riding." _ He saw the twins about to launch a giant protest so he held up a hand and said, _"However, though Miss Brandon does not have a horse, if she rides and will come with us, perhaps we could conduct a nature lesson as we go. I'm sure my stables are able to provide her with a mount."_

Finally allowing his gaze to find the woman in question, he noticed she had paled further and looked about to launch a protest of her own.

"_Forgive me Miss Brandon."_ He apologized. _"For we have not properly been introduced, though I suspect we know of each other from my family."_ He bowed formally, _"Sebastian Berkley, Miss Brandon, Earl of Gloucester. I am honored to meet you."_

Bastian held out his hand to her, his charming smile lighting his face and his eyes, Therese, startled that a man of his rank would bother to acknowledge her in such a way at all, found herself answering his smile with one of her own and handing her small hand into his. The Earl grasped her proffered fingers in a strong grip, and lifting her hand to his lips he brushed them briefly over her knuckles before releasing her.

Therese was stunned at the shocking warmth that flooded through her at his caress, and she felt the blush heating her face keenly. Bastian appeared unmoved, stepping back he smiled encouragingly, _"So Miss Brandon, do tell us, can you ride?"_

Still startled, Therese nodded before she realized she was committing to an outing with this magnetic man she had vowed to stay clear of for her own sanity. _"I do my Lord, as a child it was a favorite pastime."_

Bastian beamed. _"So it's settled then, you'll come with us and then we shall not get into trouble with the Dowager for neglecting the girls studies. I shall go and see my groom now and arrange for the horses to be saddled after luncheon. Do excuse me."_

Making his escape to cheers of delight from the twins, Bastian congratulated himself on job well done. With the twins as chaperones and the outing conducted in the guise of a lesson, no-one would think it odd for their governess to be out with him. It would give him time to come to know something of her and see if his fascination with her waned with better acquaintance.

He didn't think it would. His hand still tingled from the brief touch of hers, small warm fingers, her skin as soft as peaches. She smelled of lavender when he was close, and though he'd released her hand in a timely fashion he had not wanted to let it go.

Strange. He was a seasoned rake, familiar with his own desires and always in control of them. These unusual yearnings were new, different from anything he'd previously experienced and all the stronger for that. She should not make him feel like a callow youth barely able to contain his passions, but she did. He wanted to see her face light up with that heavenly smile; he wanted to know what she was thinking. Did she feel it too, this odd, instant connection?

Back in the school room Therese sank heavily into the chair at her desk and wondered what on earth she was about. She could easily have lied and told him she did not ride. Though it has been an age since she's had the pleasure, and she was truthful when she told him how much she enjoyed it, this was a foolish thing to do. Oh no-one will raise any censure with the twins in attendance also, but she should not put herself on a more familiar footing with his lordship. He speaks to me as an equal, not an employee her heart protested, like he sees me as a guest in his home not an underling.

Remembering that the Dowager's house guests are arriving on the morrow she guessed it might soon change. All manner of eligible young ladies and their chaperones have been invited to Alathea's party. Soon Bastian will be surrounded by wealthy beauties all vying for the position of Countess of Gloucester, and he will have no time to spend on her. It's just as well when even the thought of an afternoon on horseback in his company has her so unsettled.

It's one afternoon, she'll get through it, she'll enjoy it and then she'll fade into the background in the school room while Bastian finds himself a bride.

That was the plan, but her afternoon with him did not go that way at all. First the sight of him in his elegant midnight-blue riding coat, highly polished hessians and tight breeches had her suddenly short of breath. His magnificent black gelding Lucifer, a huge high spirited beast seemed to perfectly complete the picture he made of a man at the peak of his physical prowess. The twins had more sedate looking dapple grey mares and Bastian was holding the reins of a truly gorgeous chestnut colored gelding, smaller than Lucifer but still a large and powerful horse he obviously intended as a mount for her. She felt suddenly awfully plain and insignificant in her dark green riding habit. It was good quality and in better repair than most of her clothes as it never saw any use, but still she felt she looked so much the part of poor employee when compared to the opulence confronting her.

Bastian smiled warmly at her when she appeared at the front door though, calling her over to introduce her to the horse he had selected for her.

"_Ah, my dear Miss Brandon; come and meet Nero."_

Therese found her voice. _"A magnificent horse my lord, you have extensive stables here I believe."_

Bastian nodded as he stroked the long velvet nose and reaching into a pocket pulled a sugar lump out that he handed to her, indicating she should give it to Nero by way of introduction. The pride in his voice was unmistakable when he answered her.

"_I do. Horses are a passion of mine; I beg that you feel free to avail yourself of a mount anytime you wish to ride my dear. I have told my head groom O'Brien that he should accommodate your requests. Nero is a new addition, spirited but very manageable despite his size, as you've ridden since your childhood you should have no problem with him."_

His thoughtfulness tore at her heart. Such a generous offer, she could not possibly accept, and yet she knew he meant every word. Stroking Nero's nose gently she reveled in being close to a horse again. Then looking around for a mounting block she was perplexed to see none. The Earl smiled to himself and stepping close he placed both hands either side of Therese's waist and lifting her easily her placed her in the saddle.

Therese managed to mumble a thank you even as she watched him repeat the motion with his sisters. She could still feel those strong hands on her body as they cantered down the driveway.

Once free of the main gate Bastian indicated the open fields to the left of the castle and giving Lucifer a kick he galloped away. Laughing the twins took off after him and stunned Therese realized she was expected to follow. Nero was game with only a small kick to his ribs and then she was flying, her horse's stride even and sure she left all her worries for the moment behind her and followed Bastian into the unknown.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Six: Echoes of a familiar pain.

Berkley Castle, England

Dec 2010.

Richard Berkley had concluded his tour after showing Brennan the Countesses apartments, the only place he had not taken her had been the Earl's bed chamber and as he'd already told her he used them himself she understood this. He delivered her back to her bed chamber in the hotel portion of the castle and after asking her to join him for dinner, an invitation she was happy to accept, he'd informed her he would have the first few editions of Therese's diaries delivered to her suite for her. _"They are old and delicate, but I know you will handle them with care.", _he'd told her with a small smile. He turned to leave.

"_Richard" _Brennan called after him. _"How many editions of her diaries are there?"_

The Earl's face was amused when he replied. _"Therese was a prolific writer, somthing else you have in common it seems, the ones here date from her taking up her position here as governess, and she continued with them throughout her life. The most interesting one is from the period of her courtship with Sebastian, once they were married her entries are less frequent but still a journal a year until his death. The year following his death she wrote little but what there is, is full of her grief, the despair she tried to cope with for the sake of her children and grandchildren,then nothing the entries end, she died not long after."_

Apprehensive that he was just being polite, that he might prefer to change his mind, Brennan felt the need to double check. _"And you're sure, quite sure you don't mind letting me read them?"_

Richard took a step back towards her and looking down at her, right into her eyes he shook his head, his expression serious, calm. _"I would never have mentioned them if I did Temperance. I will have them delivered to you." _He turned to go and then stopped, without looking back at her he said. _"I hope you find what your looking for in them my dear."_ And he left.

Brennan stared after him for a moment, and then entered her room to change before she left the castle behind for the remainder of the day. There was work to be done in her borrowed lab, so reluctantly she dragged herself back to the present, consigning the diaries, and the past to later. His words stuck with her though, and though she could not say what she hoped to find within Therese's journals, she knew she was looking for something. Maybe once she found it, she'd have her answers.

She was able to identify another double set of remains that afternoon, but the absorbtion she usually found in her work was missing today. If she is being completely honest with herself, work, always in the past a refuge from the messy emotional details of life has failed to provide her with an escape in months. She dates the change to her return to Washington from Maluku. In Maluku at least she'd imagined that wherever Booth was he was missing her as she was missing him. Now that sense of comfort is no longer there, and it isn't that she wants Booth to be lonely, but dating to the beginning of their partnership, they have always missed each other when one of them was away, now she can't be sure he's missing her at all. Everything now is so confusing, and this sense she has that things have been changed irrevocably between them just will not leave her alone. She wants him to be happy, she wants it more than anything, but she did not see this coming, this awful sense of loss, now that he is no longer all hers. He is still her partner though, and the preservation of that status has always been the most important thing in the world to her beside Booth himself.

Dwelling on thoughts of Booth brings her right back to her fascination with Bastian and Therese. Odd, if she pictures Booth in period costume and herself with longer hair elegantly dressed, but slightly shabby, no, definitely shabby clothes compare with the expensive and refined elegance of an Earl, then she sees them perfectly. She and Booth, they are modern, living embodiments, mirrors of two people who lived a great love story. People who defied a conservative and confining set of social strictures, because they fell in love. She can picture the enormous pressures on the two of them to walk away from each other, in Therese's case the pressure even from Bastian to let him love her as his mistress. But Therese lived according to her own code just as Bastian did when he turned his back on a duty that would have made him leave Therese behind him.

These people, they aren't just the image of Booth and herself, they share similiar strength of character too. She sees herself in Therese, sees Booth in Bastian, and she has to wonder if this is because she knows Bastian and Therese lived happily ever after and she needs to believe that she and Booth will too. It's taken her years to see that she loves him, and seven months without the sight of his face, the sound of his voice, to determine that her feelings of love for him are romantic. She cannot see into her future and know that it holds him in the capacity she now dreams of, but at least in the past, she can learn more of a love that did.

It helps somehow, especially right now when she feels so distant from him, from them, from what they used to be.

As she packs up her things in the borrowed lab space for another night her phone rings, and without checking her caller ID she answers. _"Brennan."_

The voice she loves most in the world is warm, caressing her nickname down the phone line. _"Hey Bones,."_

Her chest tightens, the sound of his voice enough to remind her how much she longs to see him. Him, not him and Hannah she amends mentally. _"Hey Booth. Hope you aren't calling with a case for me because I already have my hands full."_

She can hear the smile in his reply. _"Yeah I heard your vacation had taken a somewhat work related turn. I've had to call on Dr. Edison for assistance in your absense and though I like Clark . . . I miss you Bones. When are you coming home?"_

It's a good question she thinks. She'll be done with the remaining identifications in a few days, but she certainly isn't ready to leave Berkley yet, there is still so much she wants to learn. _"I'm not sure Booth, I have more work to do, but since my vacation got interrupted I thought I'd stay on a week or so after I'm done. It's beautiful here Booth, so different from London."_

There is a pause the other end of the conversation, as if Booth is working up to asking her something. _"Bones . . .are you upset with me. You left so suddenly, and it's not like you frankly to take a vacation at all. The rest of us take vacations, you take time off and work."_

She sighs. _"Booth, I am working. I worked the whole time I was in Maluku, I . . .I'm not upset with you, I just wanted a break." _Even she can hear the exhaustion in her voice, and it's not physical it's the emotional toll of hiding her distress over Hannah, something she cannot and will not tell him.

_"Yeah you're right Bones. Sorry. I hope you have a great time, really I do. I mean I'm sure the weather there sucks and it ain't exactly Hawaii right? But if you need a rest, take your time. Murder and mayhem will still be here waiting on your return." _Booth laughs softly.

She takes a deep breath. She wants to share with him what she's found here, to tell him about Bastian and Therese, and yet she knows suddenly she won't. It's too painful to talk about love with him now.

_"Well I should go Booth, I have dinner plans."_

_"Hot date?" _He sounds amused.

_"Well he is an Earl Booth, and though his facial symmetry is no match for yours Richard is very pleasant to look at."_

The old Booth would have launched into a million questions about her date, the new version says simply. _"Have fun Bones."_

It's heart crushing. _"Bye Booth." _She's about to ring off when she adds impulsively. _ "Talk soon okay."_

_"Count on it." _And then he's gone. She puts her phone back into her pocket and grabbing her coat she leaves the lab wondering about why he called to talk about nothing.

Back in Washington Booth puts the phone down and looks across his desk at Angela Montenegro. Angela crosses her arms with a smug but concerned smile on her beautiful face.

_"Alright. You were right, she didn't tell me about them. What exactly does that prove Angela?" _His tone is defensive, and Angela can see genuine hurt in his eyes.

Angela leans across the desk, her face deadly serious. _"Brennan is hurting Booth. You're hurting her. This thing with you and Hannah, I know it's none of my business, but unless you're one hundred percent certain this woman is the one for you, then you need to break it off and give Brennan another chance."_

Furious Booth raises his voice. _"You're right. It is NONE of your business. Bones has what she wants Angela, we're partners and nothing more. And I'm serious about Hannah, but I can't give you an answer about the rest of my life." _

Angela looks frustrated. _"You could. If you and Brennan would stop hiding and talk to each other. Avalon says you've messed up your destiny Booth, she said to tell you that."_

It takes Booth a moment to process the name. _"Avalon asked you to give me a message?"_

Angela nods. _"She says her cards tell her everything is all wrong now and she can't see where it all works out anymore. She said you would understand."_

Booth nods. He understands, but he's not sure he believes anymore, he's not sure what he wants. But it bugs him that Bones didn't tell him what she found in England. He's seen Angela's reconstructions, and frankly they gave him chills. Why would she conceal this from him? Have they drifted apart so far? They're partners aren't they, and partners share.

Something occurs to him. _"Did you share with Avalon the fact that Brennan's two hundred year old remains look so much like us?"_

Angela's face transforms into a smile that is definitely smug now. _"I did. Are you interested in what she had to say Booth?"_

He snorts. _"You know I am, that's why I asked."_

_"Okay. She said the reason they looked so much like you both is because you are them. You're Bastian, Brennan is Therese and two hundred years ago in England the two of you shocked all of fashionable society when you fell in love. Back then Booth, Bastian loved Therese so much he would have her or no-one, and Therese, she came to accept that love could be lasting. Seems to me Booth you had more sense two hundred years ago."_

Angela smiles sweetly leaves his office quickly, leaving a perplexed looking Booth behind her.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Seven: House party hell.

Berkley Castle, England

May 1816

As he fights with his cravat for the fifth time as he dresses for dinner that night, Bastian wonders if he'll still be sane when this damned house party is over.

He's become accustomed over the years to women trying to either lure or trap him into marriage and as a self-respecting rake knows all the pitfalls and how best to avoid them. It is, it seems, much harder once word has gotten out that one is actually looking for a bride; the number of dizzy spells, broken garters, women barging un-chaperoned into his study late at night, the attempts to either engage his interest or cause a scandal mendable only by marriage have been constant for the last week.

Frankly he's feeling like a complete bear, but even boorish behavior is apparently acceptable if one is an Earl with a huge estate, vast fortune and sinfully good looks.

One of these reasons would suffice and he qualifies on all counts.

To make matters worse and probably if he's willing to be honest with himself the main reason for his ill-humor, he hasn't had a moment to spend with Therese due to a distinct lack of an excuse. He has a house-full of unwanted guests and therefore he is forced to play the dutiful host. His step-mother is insistent upon his participation in ever scheduled event, and Alathea it seems is completely delighted with both her party and her match-making attempts.

Before he met his sisters' governess he might have been happy to select a bride from among the simpering virginal debutantes, but now his desire for Therese clouds every moment of his existence, he simply can't seem to concentrate on anything else.

He should be worried about finding a bride, but all he seems to want to do is figure out how he can persuade Therese to become his mistress, because rampant desire to have her in his bed is riding him every moment. It's wrong, he should not be thinking of seducing her, but he's never wanted a woman like this and this wanting has driven its spurs deep.

Their ride the morning after he returned home was more fun than he's had in ages. He could tell Therese was reluctant to accompany him and the twins, he could see in her eyes she didn't think it her place to go, but he had also seen a genuine smile of delight when he'd asked her if she could ride. Now he's seen her in action and he'd been mesmerized by the sight.

Taking off at a full gallop on Lucifer had allowed the twins an excuse to chase after him, riding at a break-neck speed not usually considered ladylike. The twins like him were raised in the saddle though, riding such second nature that there is no thrill unless one takes off hell for leather in the sunshine.

He had intended to slow and stop at the end of the field, waiting for Therese on Nero to catch them up; when he'd risked a glance over his shoulder half-way there she'd already out-distanced the twins and was only a few lengths behind him. She rode like the very devil; Nero was gaining on him, his paces fast and sure and fully under Therese's obviously expert control. And the joy, the happiness flushing her face and bringing color to her cheeks, it made something inside him tighten, as if seeing her happy gave happiness to him. He'd never experienced an emotion like it before.

He raced on to the far side of the field, and instead of stopping, something that was obviously not necessary, he let Lucifer have some rein and sent him flying over the gate at full speed. On he raced up the hill on the far side, only slowing when he reached the top and he was not surprised to find her on his heels as his pulled Lucifer up, slowing to a trot and finally stopping to turn and admire the view.

As Therese walked Nero over to wait next to him, he marveled again at her loveliness when she allowed a smile to wreath her face. Her smile was heart stopping, making his skip a beat inside his chest as breathing hard she turned to him with laughter in her blue eyes.

"_Quite a pace you set my Lord." _

Chuckling he agreed. _"You kept up admirably my dear, I've rarely seen a woman ride with such skill, I commend you."_

Therese smiled again at his praise, _"My father liked to hunt, my mother was a sedate rider, she knew how but found little pleasure in it, something she shared with my brother. I however shared my father's love of horses, and as his son would not accompany him he felt his daughter should be allowed too."_ There is a far-away look in her eyes as she finishes, she misses her parents, Bastian can tell.

"_You were not born for the life of a governess I think."_ Curiosity, not pity colors his tone.

Sadly Therese shakes her head. _"I suppose not. Had my parents lived past my late teens, I might have had the hope of more than this life. But poverty is poverty, even if it is gentile and so I do what I must to survive. I am far more fortunate than some my lord, I have no complaints."_

Bastian can tell she means it. She is not the sort to lament bad luck, made of sterner stuff with pluck and backbone she is just what his wayward sister's need. Someone to guide them into adulthood and turn them into women of character, unlike their mother.

Wanting to see her smile again he says, _"Alicia and Eliza are fortunate girls I think, they require a firm but loving hand, not the over-indulgence my step-mother favors. Too_ _many teachers in the past have caved to Alathea's wishes and the twins have taken shameless advantage. They like and respect you, so instead of wishing to chase you out of the house they behave themselves – well somewhat – instead."_ The last is said with a wry smile Therese shares with him.

"_Thank you my lord. The girls are both smart and articulate. They have the potential to be fine women if shown the way."_

Thinking that the twins now have a very fine role model to follow, Bastian's reply is drowned out as the twins arrive in a thunder of hooves.

Grinning madly Alicia declares the ride 'rollicking good fun' and after admonishing her on her choice of phrase the party takes off again across the fields towards the river.

The remainder of the afternoon Therese had discussed the girls and her plans for their education with him in detail whenever they stopped to rest the horses. Bastian's delight in her company had only grown and grown as her fierce intelligence became more apparent with every stop. Her knowledge of every subject, her fluency with languages, and her willingness to share all of it with his sisters' had seriously impressed him. She was the sort of woman he rarely came across in a society that only valued a woman for her needlepoint or conversational French. Her ability to look good on the arm of a man or play the piano prettily, all things that were nice for sure, but Therese was so much more.

By the end of the day he knew he was really, truly completely crazy about her. She could ride easily as well as he could, she spoke French, Italian, Latin, German and Spanish. She played the piano and the violin, understood estate management in more detail than any woman he'd ever conversed with and had strong political opinions she was completely unapologetic about. She was like a breath of sweet fresh air through his stagnant existence and he wanted her like hell burning.

Several times he'd had to pry her real thoughts out of her once she'd responded to an inquiry, but by the end of the day she seemed to understand that he valued her honest opinion and that he would not suddenly terminate her employment if she said something that shocked him. She let him see the real Therese, dropping the meek employee façade when she realized it was safe to do so.

So the past five days when he's not seen her at all and his company has instead consisted of twittering ladies whose idea of intelligent conversation is discussing the latest fashions for bonnets has him going quietly mad. All the eligible young women his step-mother has invited to Berkley along with their families are attractive, well-dowered and completely malleable. He has ten to choose from and if he doesn't like any of these there are hundreds more available. He doesn't feel a thing for any of them and it amazes him that this bothers him. He's always considered until now he would take a wife for begetting an heir and friendly, easy companionship, and have a mistress for bed sport. Since he's been home all of a sudden he desires more. He wants a wife like Therese who will challenge and engage him, and he wants a mistress like Therese who will enflame his senses and drive him crazed with desire. The fact he can't have either, because how can he have Therese in either role is a dilemma he never expected to face.

Throwing a sixth cravat down on his chamber floor he exhales in disgust and heads for the window. It's dark outside and the sky has that strange glow that indicates a storm is brewing, he can feel one brewing inside also.

Damn it all, what he wants most is just to see her. She's been eating in the Dowagers' sitting room with his sisters as the main parlors are full of guests, all these people to be pleasant too have taken all his time so he hasn't even managed to go to the school room to check on her. Grabbing another cravat and just tying it very simply, he dons an elegant black dinner jacket and leaves his appearance at that. He has to see her, he cannot spend another minute with this craving in his blood so he leaves his chamber and heads quickly in the direction of the sitting room.

As expected when he slips inside Therese and the twins are just finishing their supper, and though he notices the frank surprise on her face she does not look unhappy to see him. The twins run to hug him and he listens to them chatter on with pleasure as he seats himself at the table with them.

"_Are you not expected elsewhere my lord."_ Therese inquires quietly.

"_Dinner is in half an hour, I have time."_ He responds. The relief to simply be in her presence is a balm on all his senses and he settles back happy to listen to anything she has to say. The time passes too quickly and finally, reluctantly, he stands to leave, the twins kiss him on the cheek, say goodnight to Therese and rush off to spy on all the houseguests in their finery in the musicians' gallery above the formal dining room. Bastian finds himself alone with Therese finally, and though she immediately excuses herself to follow the twins he waylays her, encircling her wrist in a grip gentle but unbreakable.

"_One moment please."_ His voice is beseeching. A plea.

Therese looks up at him, in her eyes he sees fear and uncertainty, but he's helpless now with her so close.

"_Forgive me Therese."_ He manages before he hauls her into his arms and brings his mouth down over hers unmercifully.

He swallows her squeak of surprise, notices her resistance, and is about to let her go when her mouth opens suddenly under his and she presses herself to him. He's lost.

He kisses her without restraint, all thoughts of where he's supposed to be swept completely from his mind.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Eight: The Diary.

Berkley Castle, England

Dec 2010

It's 2am; there is a chill in her room despite the modern heating and the fire burning brightly in the hearth. Sitting in an armchair in front of the fire she basks in the warm glow as she reads, looking up she notices the sky outside her room looks odd, and so she heaves herself up and wanders over to the window to stare outside. It's snowing. Huge flakes fall en-masse from a ghostly sky and already the fields and parkland surrounding the castle are covered with inches of white frosting.

It looks like a Christmas card. The countryside rendered as a painting, hiding so much of what's modern from the eye under a blanket, that she fancifully imagines it looks exactly as it did two hundred years ago. Not being the sort of person who indulges in fanciful thinking very much, she smiles to herself at the direction her thoughts have taken.

She sees it all so clearly though, imagines long ago conversations filling these rooms, and life above stairs contrasting with life below. Is it her authors' vivid imagination or something more? Her rational top layer says it's her imagination, her heart quietly insists on more, a connection to this place, to these people.

Her dinner with Richard Berkley had been a pleasant relaxed affair in his comfortable dining room in the private wing of the castle. The hotel has so many staff that Richard confessed he rarely caters for himself and just has the kitchen make whatever he wants. With 24 hour room service provided for the hotel guests and a large housekeeping staff he says his life is very comfortable really, and she had to agree.

The food was very fine, and Richard was entertaining company, regaling her with tales of his youth, his older sisters who are both married with children now, he told her about his wife, who'd left him for some famous footballer apparently. Brennan could see the shadows in his eyes when he mentioned her, the pain still cutting him deeply. He told her about his parents, who he'd lost in a plane crash when he was only twenty two years old, and how once he'd inherited the title and the responsibility for the castle he knew he'd have to make changes in order to keep his ancestral home his. Brennan guessed he was now in his early forties, ten or so years older than her. She liked him very much, they had much in common despite the cultural differences and if she hadn't come to see Booth as the man she loved, she knew the old Brennan would have had no problem engaging in a fling with the Earl. As it was, he accompanied her back to her room, only to kiss her goodnight via the knuckles of her hand in his very English way, before he bid her adieu and left.

What a difference a year or so makes, what a difference love makes. Now that she's acknowledged it, now that she understands her own heart and its desires she looks back on her own past behavior and is amazed that she's changed in the all the ways she has.

She no longer wants a sexual partner to scratch a physical itch; there is a burning need now, a desire almost overwhelming to know what it feels like to make love to someone. Well not someone, Seeley Booth. She doesn't simply want to share her body with a man; she wants to share herself, Temperance, with the only person who's always understood her. Who sees her not only as she is, but as she wants to be, as she could be.

Booth, who loved her once so deeply and whose love she rejected, out of a fear that one day his love would wane and the end when it inevitably came would be more than she could stand. Not that she could admit to that reason for the longest time, fear is irrational most of the time, she had rational reasons to cloak her rejection in, and now she curses herself every day for falling back on old patterns she's surely grown beyond by now.

If only Booth had fought harder to convince her, but her rejection stung him so badly he fought not at all; and this is the only part she blames him for. Why couldn't he fight harder that night, fight her and make her see reason as only he ever can. Why did he have to pick that moment to behave so uncharacteristically, because now he's changed everything and she's terrified it will end them.

For though she's his partner, she doesn't know if she can stay that if he marries Hannah, has a family with her. She thought the preservation of their friendship the only important thing, now she wonders how much she can stand to witness; how much silent pain she can cover up before the dam inside her breaks.

Pulling the heavy damask drapes closed to keep out the cold, she returns to her seat by the fire, wondering if anything but Booth can chase away the chill in her heart.

She picks up her book, worn red leather and aged yellow pages covered in elegant script eerily similar to her own. The phrases and the wording are like something from Jane Austen, the cadences different and the language sometimes unfamiliar, but the entries lure her in and though she should have been asleep long ago she cannot put it down.

She found several diaries waiting for her, simply sitting on her dresser when she returned from the lab. The top one is dated from March 1816 when Therese travelled from Essex east of London to the wilds of Gloucestershire and Berkley. Her pupils before the twins had been boys who were old enough now to be sent away to school, so with an excellent reference she had been able to choose from a number of positions. The one at Berkley was the most prestigious, the sisters of an Earl, a castle to call home and being that her pupils would be girls the possibility of reasonably long-term employment. It had been an easy decision and from her diary Brennan had gleaned that Therese had loved Berkley upon first sight.

"_Its setting is sublime, this vast building that is so happily situated in the rolling Cotswold hills, I am drawn to this place as none before it. I feel most at home here and my apartments are so tastefully decorated, I have every comfort I could desire and shall save much for the future at this rate of pay."_

She had loved Bastian's sisters almost immediately too, especially Alicia, the older and bolder girl who Therese described as _"The most beautiful child imaginable with her dark eyes twinkling, full of mischief. A keen mind, one in need of instruction."_

Her fascination with the Castles absent master appeared very early on also. From Therese's first look at his portrait and then a distinct absorption with a marble bust, it seems his physical beauty stirred something within her she knew was dangerous before they had even met. Once Bastian came home Therese's descriptions of him spoke volumes to her growing attachment to him.

"_His face, I could look upon all day and never grow tired of the looking. In his eyes I see an understanding of me, as if he knows me on a level none before him have ever seen. His gaze is always warm, open, for a nobleman this alone tells me that his underlings have his respect, that he feels his privilege as a great responsibility. He is a good man, I think, honorable despite his reputation with women. I feel for him as I should not, as it is not safe to do, and yet I am helpless to stop these feelings growing daily. It is unwise to say the least." _

Brennan is amazed by the mirror of her own feelings; Therese however was in touch with her emotions, open with herself always about what they were. Brennan on the other hand has lived since her teens in a world where she kept such a distance between what she felt and what she acknowledged she felt that she lost the ability to know her own feelings somehow. Her love for Booth she knows now has always been there, right from their first disastrous case and their instant physical attraction to each other. By the end of that case she had decided she truly disliked him, but love and hate are two sides of the same coin and it was a twist of fate flipping that coin hate side up for a year.

Slowly, so slowly she came to see how important he was, but she can look back now and see she felt it even then. From her fear when her refrigerator blew him up, to her desperate beating of a bounty hunter when he went missing. Killing to save his life, lying to protect him, kissing him under mistletoe that was no hardship at all, and always, always working to aid him even his score with the universe, just so that he would feel at peace. A thousand acts of love she performed and didn't recognize until too late.

Her vision blurs suddenly and afraid the tears will spill over and damage the delicate paper she closes the diary and places it on the coffee table. She's overly emotional and she needs to rest, she'll come back to all this tomorrow.

She checks that the fire will burn itself out safely, and then she douses the lights and pulls the curtains back a little to let in some moonlight, the thick covers on her bed will prevent her from catching cold.

Climbing in she swipes her eyes clear of moisture and laying her head on a thick fluffy pillow she closes her eyes and wills herself to sleep. As wind howls outside and more snow falls she wonders if Bastian and Therese will enter her dreams.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Nine: Duty versus desire.

Berkley Castle, England

May 1816

For three days after he'd kissed the life out of her he saw nothing of Therese. When he thinks back though on the passion unleashed by that kiss his whole body tightens and he is helpless to stop recalling it again and again. Her mouth was so sweet, so yielding under his, her kisses a little shy, untutored, with a wild innocence he had not experienced before. Therese might be twenty nine, but it is clear to Bastian she is as yet untouched, her sensual nature untapped. He feels an insane triumph in this, when she is finally his she will be his only. No other. Ever.

If he had thought he wanted her badly before he kissed her, it is but nothing to the rampant, hard-edged need riding him now. And he is going quietly mad while she avoids him like the plague. Though for long moments they kissed with abandon that night, the chiming of the dinner gong had brought them both swiftly back to earth. Therese had suddenly struggled frantically in his arms, hauling herself away from him with fear and amazement burning in her gaze. She was flushed, her chest heaving, her lips swollen from his passion and then she turned away and fled the room before he could say anything beyond her name to stop her. He had wanted so much to go after her and continue kissing her until she wanted him so badly she would agree to his demands, but his duty was calling him to dinner, and so willing his body to calmness he had straightened his jacket and his cravat and walked quickly to the formal dining room.

Dinner had been an interminable affair that had tried his patience on every level. Alathea had invited several men to the house party, mainly the fathers of all the eligible debutantes and because each of these fathers wanted to marry off their darlings to him he couldn't seem to carry on a decent conversation with any of them. Thankfully Alastair was arriving that evening, a fact for which Bastian was profoundly grateful. Alathea of course had neglected to invite his cousin; Alastair was younger than he, of similar height with dark hair and his mother's vivid blue eyes. A very handsome man with an easy charm; he was Bastian's father's youngest brothers oldest son, and currently fourth in line to the Earldom. Bastian and Alastair had been fashioned very much in the same mold and though there were nine years difference between them, now that they were both grown men they were as close as brothers.

Alastair was also very eligible, with his own fortune and large house in London, nothing compared to Bastian's wealth and title, but Alastair's connection to the Earldom of Gloucester was certainly a further strike in his favor. Alastair didn't make dinner, but showed up for brandy and cigars in the smoking room not long after. With the women all expecting them sometime in the drawing room, Bastian should have gone with his guests for that evenings entertainment – charades, but instead he excused himself and Alastair on the pretext of estate business, very important.

Alastair had raised an eyebrow, amusement glinting in his eyes, but meekly followed Bastian's lead as they retired to Bastian's study, brandies still in hand.

Once the door was safely closed behind them Alastair had taken the seat opposite the desk as was his custom, and sprawling his long legs in front of him he asked casually,

"_Who is she?"_

Frowning Bastian had shot him a lethal look before pacing to the window and with his back to Alastair replied simply.

"_The twins' governess."_

Behind him there was a loud snort of laughter as Alastair almost choked on a mouthful of brandy. _"Good God, and you've only been home such a short time, Lady Sophia will be most distressed to be passed over for a governess."_

When Bastian did not immediately respond Alastair was surprised. He was further amazed to see his rakish cousin, a legend in the world of the haute-ton, quietly seat himself opposite him real distress evident in his handsome face.

Suddenly concerned, Alastair had leant forward, placed his brandy on the walnut desk and said gently. _"What is it Bastian? What's happened?"_

Running a hand distractedly through his thick wavy locks Bastian had sighed heavily, _"Her name is Therese Brandon. She's been the twins' governess for three months, and you should see them Alastair, they are flourishing with her instruction. She is unlike any woman of my acquaintance. Her intelligence, the sheer scope of her knowledge is amazing; she is beautiful, kind, thoughtful, graceful, musical, everything a well-bred woman should be, yet she rides like a demon, has radical political ideas and I can think of nothing but her morning till night."_

Stunned by Bastian's confession, which to Alastair's ears sounded very much like his cousin was falling in love, Alastair asked. "_And Therese, what of her feelings for you?"_

A wry smile pulled at the corners of Bastian's mouth. _"I don't know. There is something between us Alex, something beyond a physical attraction. Our connection was immediate, and I have no doubt she feels it as keenly as I. In her company, there is a feeling of relief that washes through me when she is close, a feeling of belonging to something, I cannot describe it, I have no frame of reference for this. I only know I want her. But to seduce her, to seduce an innocent, surely this is wrong? I would provide for her of course, she would never need for anything, but I cannot see her agreeing to be my mistress, she was raised for better than that. She is not a member of the demi-monde, or a bored aristocratic wife whose husband will look the other way. Neither is she a widow of our class whose discrete affairs society will chose to ignore. If she agrees to my request, wherever I settle her people will suspect what she is, they will label her a whore, they will shun her, and she will never have respect."_

Alastair sighed as he said feelingly. _"You cannot marry her Bastian, you must see that. You are an Earl, the head of our family; you must marry someone of our circle, an appropriate mother for your sons."_

Bastian had nodded. _"I am aware of everyone's expectations Alex, and I am prepared to fulfill them. I do not require an emotional connection to marry, that is a separate issue. I am just compellingly distracted, afraid of what Therese will say to my request, and what will I do if she refuses me?"_

Alastair had picked up his brandy again. _"You will forget her Bastian. You are an Earl."_

Bastian had swallowed his remaining brandy in one large swig, though Alex would be considered right by everyone he knew, in his heart one shining thread held true. _'I will never forget her; it's too late for that.'_

Four days after she'd acted like a wanton hussy and kissed his lordship in a fury of passion, Therese was still in hiding. She put the twins on half-lessons, to allow them to participate in some activities with the house guests, an excuse no-one would suspect. She ate all her meals alone and in her room, feigning a slight illness she was abed very early each night and though she slept poorly she was up by dawn each morning.

Needing to get out of the castle lest Bastian come looking for her, something she didn't put past him to do, she crept to the stables in the early light and spent the time between then and the girls' lessons with Nero.

Dear Nero. Their reckless ride had forged a bond between horse and rider, Nero always snorted his delight at her visits. Butting her in the stomach gently with his long velvet nose; and whiff ling her gowns searching for sugar lumps. Therese knew she should not allow herself to grow attached to him, but he was a beautiful horse, and she longed to ride him again.

As she muttered nonsense in his ear and cuddled against his long neck she is disturbed by a sound behind her and turning quickly is relieved to see it is only O'Brien, his lordship's head groom.

O'Brien tugs at his cap. _"Good morning miss. You come to take him out then? His lordship said you was to have use of him whenever you liked."_

Therese paused. Bastian had said that hadn't he. She has hours before classes and if she is out riding it might clear her head.

"_Yes please O'Brien. I would like that very much."_

The old groom smiles. "_Have him saddled for you right away miss, by the time you change and get back here he'll be ready to go."_

Oh right. She will need to change into her riding habit. Blast she'll have to go back to her room. Never mind, his lordship will most certainly be abed at this hour, she won't run into him and she really only needs ten minutes. She'll do it.

Fifteen minutes later she is flying like the wind across the same fields as before, faster and faster she pushes Nero, slowing only slightly before she sails over the gate and on up the hill on the far side. The sun is truly up now, summer still not really here and a chill in the morning air, but she is so happy to be free of her room and on horseback once more.

She stops at the top of the hill, turning to look back the castle with the sun behind it.

It is so beautiful. Large, it dominates the landscape around it but seems to fit right in with its pale grey stone walls and manicured gardens. That she will have to leave this place she has come to love is a very real possibility. She will not be able to avoid Bastian forever, and after her wanton response to his kiss she knows eventually he will seek her out and make her the offer she is dreading. Dreading because she can not do it, she will not disgrace herself or her late parents name by becoming Bastian's whore.

But she wants too, and that will make her refusal so hard she is terrified that he'll see her weakness and somehow persuade her. That he can be very persuasive she has no doubt, just the memory of his kiss has her knees weak and trembling.

Just then she hears the distinct sound of another horse and rider, from the pace of the hoof beats, someone else is riding hard too. She turns Nero and looking down the other side of the hill as the landscape drops away towards the Severn Estuary she sees a rider getting closer on a horse she recognizes. A large, powerful, black horse, a rider dressed in a darkest blue. It seems Bastian is not safely sleeping as she had supposed, and it is clear he his heading directly for her.

Part of her wants to turn Nero back towards Berkley, at full gallop she will be there before he can catch her. But she cannot avoid this conversation forever, so she remains where she is, her stomach churning and her hands trembling slightly on the reins.

It feels like mere moments before he pulls Lucifer up short in front of her, and jumping immediately from the saddle he draws near. Pulls her foot from the stirrup and tugs, she feels herself slide from the saddle towards the ground, powerful arms catch her and swing her up until her carries her in his arms.

Finding her voice she says as indignantly as she can. _"What the hell do you think you are doing my lord?"_

His reply his gruff, autocratic, all feudal nobleman. _"I want to talk to you."_

"_Put me down at once, this is outrageous behavior my lord."_

Risking a glance at his face, Therese sees his jaw is clenched tight, the lines of his face graven. She softens her tone, trying to appease him.

"_Please my lord."_

Dark eyes, gone stormy black look straight through her, into her soul. _"Will you talk to me Therese? Will you listen?"_

Swallowing the lump suddenly blocking her throat she nods first as she struggles to reply.

"_I will listen. If you promise me you will too."_

Bastian nods. But before he sets her on her feet he plant a kiss on her forehead, inhales the scent of her hair.

The tenderness in the gesture rips at her heart. This may prove to be the hardest conversation of her life.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Ten: The truth in the Tarot.

Washington D.C., USA

Dec 2010

He's about to leave his office that night, go home to Hannah, have dinner, watch the Flyers hopefully beat the crap out of the Pittsburgh Penguins when he realizes that though he has had his whole evening planned out all day – that's not what he's going to do.

Damn Angela. Her visit to see him, her frank and open concern for her best friend, who of course happens to be the same person he refers to by that same title. Best Friend. He's thought of Brennan as his best friend for almost as long as she's been his partner; their relationship, the closeness of their connection, outside of 'partner' it was the best he could do.

He can see Angela is worried, she would not have come to see him if it wasn't in her mind serious enough to warrant intruding into their relationship. Oh she's meddled, tried to match-make before, but now that he's living with someone, Angela would not come to him about Brennan unless she deemed it really necessary. Which means, of course that he should have seen it first. He should be as worried as Angela is; but he's been wrapped up in his own world lately and with Brennan away, he's let things slide.

Guilt is a rotten feeling. He's missed her, of course. Working a case just is not the same, he can honestly say he doesn't really want to work them without her, but with Hannah in his life he's been concentrating on them, and kind of leaving Brennan to her own devices.

He's an ass. She IS his best friend. He DOES love her. Just because he's trying so hard to put his romantic feelings for her behind him, doesn't let him off the hook on the best friend and partner front. If Brennan is distressed, or having a hard time, he should be trying harder to provide a source of support for her, to be there to talk to her about it whether she's half a world away or not.

He has a cell phone, she has a cell phone, he should have been checking on her for God's sake.

She didn't mention identifying two bodies who are flaming carbon copies of the two of them. A husband and wife even, living two hundred years ago in England, and they are the image of him and Brennan. It's amazing, and cool and frankly a little disconcerting, but she's said nothing to him about them. Did she think he wouldn't be interested? Or was the fact that these people were married to each other too strange for her? It bothers him no end that she's kept her discovery from him, but that's exactly what she's done. She hasn't neglected to tell him, this is deliberate. She made a choice to exclude him.

Why?

It's been annoying him all afternoon. That and the fact that Brennan had a dinner date. He's living with someone, he's trying to move on, he's not allowed to be bothered by her dating, but he is. Really bothered. Really, really, bothered. He was good, he didn't say a word to Brennan, not like he once would have, but in fact he hates it just like he always has in the past. Because Hannah or no Hannah, he still loves Brennan. He can't help it. His love for her has been a part of him for so long he doesn't think he'll ever be able to stop. So where does that leave him?

Royally screwed apparently. Because although he was heading home, now he's searching his computer for a file, and for an address and phone number contained within that file. Then he's dialing that number and when his call is answered he asks if it's convenient for him to come over.

"_Sure Agent Booth, I've been wondering when you'd call."_ Is the reply the other end. And then he's making another call, telling Hannah something has come up that he needs to deal with at work and that he'll try not to be too late, but maybe she could PVR the game for him.

Then he's entering an address in his SUV's GPS, and driving through traffic in the opposite direction from his apartment. It takes him thirty minutes and his stomach is in knots by the time he arrives. Part of him thinks he's lost his mind, the larger part says he has to have this conversation, she's helped him before and she's already involved.

Avalon Harmonia frowns at him when she answers her door, ushering him down the long hallway of her condo and into her living room with its large 'reading' table.

"_Take a seat."_ She waves him the direction of the guest chair and goes to sit opposite him, shushing him when he goes to speak. He waits impatiently while she shuffles her cards, and then she lays out three of them in front of him face up, before she sits back in her chair, arms folded and another frown on her face.

When it becomes apparent that she's waiting for him to say something he asks her finally, _"What do you mean by telling Angela that I've messed up my destiny?"_

Avalon smiles, unhappily. _"You know what I mean Agent Booth. In there."_ She points at his heart.

Booth shrugs, tries to look unconcerned. _"If I knew, why would I ask?"_

Avalon points to the first card she laid out. It's a picture of two women, one blond the other brunette, they stand facing each other. Then she points to the second card, a picture of a heart with a dagger through the centre. Finally she points to the third card, it's like a picture of nothing, fog or something, clouds maybe, dark clouds.

"_It's the same three every time."_ She says bluntly.

Booth looks them over, first to last, first to last. He could ask her to explain them, but he'd like to figure it out and since Avalon isn't spelling them out for him apparently she thinks he'll know.

When it comes to him, he looks up at her; there is horror in his eyes. He points to the first card and says, _"Brennan and Hannah."_

Avalon nods.

He points to the second card, the one with the pierced heart. _"Brennan?"_ He says, hoping he's way off the mark. His stomach churns when Avalon nods again.

He indicates the third card, the one with nothingness on it. _"Our future." _He knows he's right. He can feel it suddenly, as soon as the words are out.

Avalon nods again. _"Well done Agent Booth. You've turned both of your futures into this. This nothing, do you want to know what they used to be?"_

All Booth can do is nod. Avalon picks up the very large deck of tarot cards and turning them all over face side up she fans them out across the table for him. Searching through them carefully she pulls first one, then another and finally a third card free, and lays them out below the first set.

The first card he recognizes, a picture of a man and woman, both with dark hair entwined naked. He can't remember why he knows this card, but he knows it's called 'The Lovers.'

The second card is a picture of the sun.

The final card is a rainbow, with children dancing below it.

Avalon points to the first card. _"You and Dr. Brennan."_ She says.

Then she points to the second card. _"The Sun card, happiness, fulfillment, contentment, purpose."_

Finally she points to the third. _"Family."_ Is all she says.

Leaning forward across her table, Avalon pins him to his seat with her gaze like a bug.

"_This is what you were supposed to have, both of you. When I told you my cards showed me everything worked out eventually. Now things have changed to this. Angela asked me look into Dr. Brennan's future, she was worried about her, and no wonder. Then I read for you and the same thing happened. These same three cards for the both of you . . . it was not supposed to be this way Agent Booth. What the hell have you done?"_

Booth looks from the first set to the second set again and shudders. _"But she doesn't want me; I only gave her what she wanted."_

Avalon snorts in disbelief. _"She never wanted this."_ Avalon points to the nothing card, _"You're the one with the lion heart, why didn't you listen to it?"_ She asks.

Booth thinks back on that terrible night he's tried so hard to forget. The night he gambled desperately for his hearts' desire and lost. When Brennan pulled back out of their kiss, when she spoke those awful words of refusal, quite honestly his heart simply went into shock to try and protect itself. He retreated; he let her sway him when he knew she was wrong. He didn't fight for her love, and as he looks again at the nothingness card he abruptly sees that apparently he should have.

For now their future is nothing, oh my God he thinks, it can't be true.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Eleven: Bastian's plan of attack.

Berkley Castle, England

May 1816

Having no-one to confide in, no support of any kind is something Therese is used too. She hasn't spoken to, or seen, her only sibling - her brother Robert in nine years, not since he finally lost the last remains of their parents' estate leaving her penniless.

Her parents, Sir William Brandon and Christiana Brandon had been incredibly hard working all their lives. Her father, the son of a naval officer had also become a sailor; making his fortune in India and the Americas he'd been knighted by His Majesty the King for his services to the British shipping industry. She'd loved both of them very much, but especially her father, who had been the kindest most generous man, a man who had not only allowed but had encouraged his daughters' education. Actively seeking tutors for her when she wanted to learn something new. She missed him everyday.

When they were killed, Therese had been almost seventeen. Her parents carriage overturned on a London street, Robert, three years older than she, had become her guardian. Robert had never excelled at his studies as she had, never shown any particular talent for business, he had a tendency to idleness and had been content to run through their parents' money at an alarming rate. Then gambling became a problem for him, and soon there had been nothing left. Thankfully by this point Therese had turned twenty, and though still her brother's ward until she attained her majority at twenty one, Robert had been only to happy to let her strike out on her own. She became a mistress at a girl's school first, and though she enjoyed it, she wasn't content to instruct only one or two subjects, she knew so much and wanted to share it. Thus began her career as a Governess, a lonely existence, but at least one that allowed her to utilize her skills more, and being a fiercely independent woman anyway, Therese had been content until now.

Before Berkley. Before Sebastian. Now she wishes so much for someone to talk too, a friend to share her pain with, but there is no-one, so instead she pours her heart out onto pages and pages of her red leather journals. It helps to have an outlet for all these emotions she's never felt before, all the terrifying sadness she's experiencing. She writes at her desk in her chamber late at night, sometimes falling asleep over her writing and waking in the early hours stiff and sore.

Bastian has made her the offer she was dreading and asked her to be his mistress; practically begged her a week ago, when he came across her out riding at sun up. He spoke at length of his feelings, his need, and his desire for her. He promised her financial security, a home, and above all his discretion, and refusing him, while the right and proper thing to do, was in fact the hardest thing she has ever done. It amazes her that in such a short acquaintance she could have fallen in love with him, and yet she fears that's exactly what has happened. Only if she loved him could refusing him as she did hurt so badly, and it hurts her all the time.

Just the memory of his arms around her, the pleading look in his eyes as he said . . .

"_I desire you Therese; I know you feel it too. I've never wanted, never needed like this, I burn for you, only you, please Therese, don't refuse me." _His voice a warm caress; passion blazing in the dark eyes showing her clearly the reality of his need of her.

"_I cannot my lord. Surely you must see this."_ Shaking her head, she forces herself to pull away, at the same time not really wanting him to release her.

"_Never have I felt this way before my love, we have to be together, you must understand that."_ His grip on her tightening, he almost shakes her, his hands trembling, his plea tender.

"_What you ask is not right, I will not do it. Please, please, do not ask it of me."_ The sting of tears welling in her eyes, fighting them back not wanting to show weakness; she MUST be strong.

"_But I must, it's what we both want. Therese, I would provide for you always, including provision for any children, you would be safe, I swear it." _Sincerity burns in every word, but he mentions children and she shudders, for what future would they face? Then jealousy burns her, could it be possible, does he have children already? Oh she WILL stand firm.

"_I would be a whore my lord, my children illegitimate, children with no legal existence, shunned by all decent folks as soon as they realized. How can you so easily condemn your own flesh and blood to that?"_ She finds her voice is stronger now, the tears easier to swallow. Bastian says nothing, but his eyes stare into hers, she wonders what he's looking for, it feels like he's searching her soul for secrets.

"_Can you look at me and tell me you don't want me Therese? Will you deny all that exists between us?" _Oh, so softly, so tenderly he asks her.

Hauling in a deep breath she breaks free of his embrace, forcing herself to stand tall, to make her refusal completely plain. _"Can I tell you I feel nothing for you? No I cannot. Can I deny those feelings? Yes, they are irrelevant don't you see! You will not feel this way forever, one day your feelings will change my lord, and you will move on. If I go down this road my future is FOREVER altered and what I will have lost in society's eyes I could never reclaim. And though I would be financially provided for, no amount of money could make up for what I would lose – my self respect has no price, it is not for sale."_

Robert has disgraced her parents good name enough already, she will not further drag it in the mud, she will lead a life that would make them proud.

His face stricken, unhappiness written in every line, his only reply a mere whisper, his soul aching. _"But I need you."_

Still he lets her return to the castle on Nero alone, and remounting Lucifer he turned his horse back the way he came and rode away. He has not pressured her further, nor sought her out for seven days, and though she is grateful that he's respected her refusal she knows her heart will never be the same.

_But I need you, I need you, I need you . . . _

She falls into sleep uneasily each night, his words endlessly repeating in her mind.

Bored he wanders the manicured lawn at the east side of the castle. He hasn't slept or eaten properly in a week and though he's tried valiantly to appear at ease for his guests, playing his expected part to the hilt and participating in every planned entertainment, his heart feels leaden in his chest and he wonders how he can go another day, another hour without the sight of her.

He's in love. It's uncomfortable, vastly inconvenient and somehow, though he's never felt this way ever before, his gut tells him this feeling is permanent, unshakable and irrevocable. But she has refused him, refused the only relationship he can offer her, and though his heart is dying he is trying desperately to respect her position.

He does not blame Therese for his pain, though he longs with every breath for her to change her mind.

He's tried to focus on his search for a suitable bride, but he can no longer imagine going through with the sort of marriage he's been raised to want for himself in the past. To take a wife he does not actually care for, who he takes to bed merely to beget himself an heir. A fashionable society union, a marriage of convenience with a well-dowered girl who possesses the background to be his Countess, this is what he is supposed to desire, what he's always expected to have. Yet he does not want it, cannot conceive of wanting it. He is not the same man he was mere weeks ago, meeting Therese; falling in love – almost at first sight with her – it has altered him forever.

He's begun to wonder this week when he's lived without even a sight of her if he can live without her? Of what will become of him if he tries. A hundred lovers in his past, and one independent, stubborn, beautiful, and untouched virgin has brought him to his knees. Longing is surging perpetually through his veins, and nothing is able to keep thoughts of her from his mind for very long. Everything is sadness, hollowness, and his future stretches endlessly in front of him now, with his duty and his honor as his only bedfellows. There is nothing he can do it seems but try again to convince her to change her mind. He understands every reason for her refusal of his offer, but across the land men of his class have mistresses a plenty. Those women might be whispered about on the village high street, but if he could persuade Therese to come to London, there he could hide their connection. He could set her up as an independantly wealthy widow, a fiction, but in a city so large no-one knows everyone as they do in rural village England, it would not be questionned. He could visit her in secret, they could be together without society discovering their connection - it could work. And if he got her with child, he could move her again, the widow fiction would protect her and their child, he knows he can prevent or circumvent all her fears if only she will let him.

Surely a life together, even a secret life, is better than for them to walk away from each other forever. He can protect her self-respect, he would never let anyone harm her in any way, never let anyone know the nature of their relationship. She would have her own home, her own money, servants, every comfort his fortune could provide for her. That's a better life than the lonely existence she enjoys now, and he can give it to her.

And if he can have a life with Therese, then he can take a wife he does not desire, he can beget the heir his family demands, and then return to the woman he loves.

There has to be a way to make Therese see this, there has too. He's through with this distance, through with trying to respect her position, for even the thought of trying to continue on this path of living without her leaves him cold and shaking. He cannot do it, he will not do it. She must be made to see reason. But she cannot be forced too, he instinctively knows she is as stubborn as he, she'll resist if he tries to simply impose his will upon her. But how?

He takes a seat on the stone wall of the garden terrace, unseeing he stares at the beautiful landscape in front of him. He reviews all his dealings with Therese, looking for something that will demonstrate his way forward with her, some sign as to how he should proceed. If he cannot will her to see things his way, if asking will not get him what he wants, then persuasion is the only way left. She has to want him as he wants her, so much that she's willing to risk society's censure to have him.

Innocent as she is her physical response to him is the key, his blood boils with desire for her, so she must be made to boil too. To yearn for his touch as he craves hers, to beg for his kiss, to want it so badly she can think of nothing else. When she is as insane with longing as he is now, she'll agree to his demands, she'll do anything as long as it means she can be with him. But he cannot persuade her unless he spends time with her, and this infernal house party is scheduled for another week at least, at which point he supposed to return to London for the start of the season. Alathea will accompany him he assumes, as he hasn't selected a bride already she will want to ensure he attends all the right engagements until he does and he doubts she intends to bring her daughters to London with her, meaning Therese will be remaining at Berkley with them. Blast, that cannot happen, he needs his sister's in London for then so will Therese be.

So how to persuade Alathea that the twins should come to London? They are too young to enter society properly yet, too young to attend the social whirl. So what compelling reason can he give Alathea for wanting to bring the twins and their governess with him? It is a dilemma. Inspiration strikes him suddenly, he must use his need of bride as an excuse. Alathea wants to see him properly wed, considers it her duty as his stepmother to ensure his future and the future of the Earldom, therefore he can use this against her. If he can convince her that as his sister's are in his ward, it is of the upmost importance to him that his future wife will get along with them. He wants to select a bride, he will tell her, who will be the best of mothers for his children, and that he feels the twins can aid him in this.

Once the twins are coming to London also, naturally it will be necessary for their governess to accompany them.

He will gain the time with Therese that he needs to convince her. Finally satisfied that he has a way forward, Bastian gets up from the wall and heads back to the castle, purpose and hope infusing every stride once more.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Twelve: Finding Bastian.

Berkley Castle, England

Dec 2010

She gets up to an English winter wonderland outside her hotel room window. It's still snowing, but lightly now, soft lazy flakes drifting gently down from a pale wan sky. The countryside is covered in at least four feet of snow and she can see an army of staff out clearing the long castle driveway to the main road, with what appears to be a tractor with a snowplow attachment on the front and a whole lot of snow blowers.

She'd thought Berkley beautiful before, all of sudden it seems the full spirit of the season has decided to descend. She hasn't really been looking forward to the holidays this year, for obvious reasons, all of them related to Booth. From the time of her parent's disappearance when she was fifteen, until the last few years or so, she's effectively by-passed the holiday season by going overseas and working through it. Booth put a stop to that and then with her reunion with her father and her brother, both things that happened as a direct result of having Booth in her life, she has the last few years begun to enjoy the holidays once more.

She does of course have several invites for Christmas this year, Angela and Hodgins have invited her, Russ and Amy are having her Dad, and want her to come too, and Cam has also inquired as to her plans. Booth has said nothing, but he's supposed to have Parker this year and she can only imagine his Christmas plans involve Hannah, Parker, and Hank; maybe Jared and Padme too. On the one hand she's knows she's not really on the outside looking in, but this year that's how she's already feeling – like a third wheel on everyone else's holiday get together. For the first time since she started to care about Christmas again she feels a sense of foreboding at it's approach, which in turns brings back a fifteen year olds inescapable feeling of sadness she had thought was gone for good.

Frankly she's seriously beginning to think she might just spend Christmas here, at Berkley. Angela will give her heck about it, but honestly, Christmas is three weeks away, she'll be finished with everything here in no more than a week and then she could just extend her vacation, for the truth of the matter is that she doesn't want to witness Booth and Hannah and their first Christmas together. She doesn't want to hear about what he's bought her, or what romantic thing he has planned, she'd rather be safely here in England, in this place that so enchants her and miss the whole damn thing.

For the preservation of her emotional sanity, this is the safest bet all round. Booth won't feel guilty that he's not a part of her Christmas, her family won't be bugging her about Booth, and Angela and Hodgins will be fine just the two of them.

Plan of action decided upon she emails Cam from her cell and requests the additional time, then she showers and dresses and heads down to breakfast.

As she comes down the main stairs to the reception hall she notices big changes. The castle has been decorated overnight by what must have been an entire army of people. An enormous real tree takes centre stage next to the huge fireplace opposite the front desk. Decked from top to toe in silver, gold and white decorations, with tiny orange lights everywhere, the tree is heavenly. The fireplace is festooned with greenery, all of it real, and candles blaze along the mantle. Everywhere she turns is green, gold, white and silver, all perfectly coordinated and complementing the castle's pale stone and plaster walls perfectly. She notices Richard Berkley by the tree and so she goes over to greet him, noticing her approach he smiles hugely.

"_Temperance, good morning my dear; tell me what you think?"_ he says, indicating the Christmas majesty surrounding him.

Smiling back, despite her holiday melancholy, she replies honestly, _"Its amazing Richard. How did you get this all done overnight?"_

The Earl laughs, _"Years of practice, we keep the same color scheme every year, the tree is cut from the estate, we grow them specially, have done since my childhood. The heavy snowfall slowed things down a lot though; we are usually finished way before morning arrives."_ The way he looks around him Brennan suddenly understands that he's been up all night organizing it, a fact he confirms with his next words.

"_I would ask to join you for breakfast as I'm curious to ask you what you've read so far in Therese's diaries, but I'm afraid you must excuse me until later on as I'm truly in need of some sleep now."_ He yawns as if to prove his point then asks her, _"Are you planning on trying to get out of here this morning?"_

Brennan nods_. "I still have work at the lab. How clear are the roads?"_

"_Not at all I'm afraid, we are only half way done the driveway and the main road probably won't be cleared until the afternoon. We aren't expecting anymore snow today, so they will get it cleared, but we don't often get snow, so we are highly unprepared for it really. I doubt that you'll make the lab today."_ He tells her.

Snow day. Great, she thinks, she can go right back to the diaries, that and she still wants to see Bastian's marble bust, if it's still here, she wants to understand Therese's fascination with it.

"_Richard. The marble bust of Sebastian that Therese refers to in her first diary; is it still here at Berkley?"_

The Earl yawns again, and then smiling sheepishly he says. _"Yes. All the family busts used to be in the portrait gallery, but my father moved them many years ago now, I forget why, he put them in the ballroom Temperance. It's being decorated right now for Christmas, and our annual Berkley Ball but there are alcoves in the walls all the way round, the busts are there now, you're welcome to go and look. Will you join me for afternoon tea? We could talk further then."_

"_I'd like that. Thank you."_

"_Tea is at three, in the dining room. I'll join you there."_ He grabs her hand and gives it a quick squeeze. _"Until later my dear."_ He turns to leave and then stops. _"The ball is December 20__th__ Temperance . . . is there any chance you might still be here with us?"_

"_I am considering extending my stay, if you have a room for me?"_ She answers.

Delighted, the Earl beams at her. _"If the hotel is full, I would have you to stay with me my dear, if you wanted, but we still have a few rooms, just let the desk know how long you need. And if you will do me the honor of being my guest at the ball, it would be my very great privilege to escort you."_

"_As my friend, naturally."_ He's lovely, but Brennan suddenly feels the need to place him firmly in that category.

Richard Berkley looks a little disappointed, but he inclines his head. _"Of course."_ He replies.

"_Then I accept."_ She tells him. _"What is the dress code?"_ She asks.

Now the Earl laughs loudly. _"Oh you'll love this Temperance. The dress code is the same every year; the ball always has a 'Regency' theme. Very appropriate considering your interest is in the Berkley of that period. Have the front desk give you a list of shops in Gloucester and maybe Bristol were you can rent a costume, I'll see you at three."_ Still smiling to himself, Richard leaves an intrigued Brennan behind him.

A 'Regency' themed ball; that is oddly appropriate, and it sounds like fun to Brennan. She'll actually get to sort of 'be' Therese for a night; she even has an Earl of her own to accompany her. It's just what she needs to keep her spirits up right now, something to look forward to. As Richard suggested she stops at the front desk and extends her stay until December 26th, and gets the costume rental details also. Once the snow is cleared and the roads open again, she'll take a day after her final identifications are complete and go hunt for the perfect costume for the ball. Right now her stomach is rumbling and breakfast required.

She downs toast and eggs, and English breakfast tea which she's developed a real taste for and then she heads in the direction of the ballroom.

The ballroom is huge, the largest single room in the castle, she can only imagine the glittering events hosted here over the span of the castle's lifetime. She saw it briefly on her previous tours of the castle, but apart from poking her head around the door and marveling at the size of this huge empty room she didn't see anything more to investigate.

Suddenly the room is fascinating. Bastian's bust is in here somewhere, and the room itself has become a veritable hive of activity. Another huge, but as yet undecorated tree has been stationed at the far end of the room. Men on ladders are busy stringing thousands of Christmas lights around the perimeter and boughs of mistletoe have been hung already from each sparking chandelier in the space. As Brennan looks around she notices now the alcoves Richard mentioned. About five feet from the floor and evenly spaced around the room, a three foot tall or so arched alcove is cut into the room's stone walls. In each alcove is either a bust or a statue, most of them marble but some of them could be stone. Brennan starts on her left and begins to work her way clockwise around the room, she gets about three quarters of the way before she finds it, and when she does in an instant Therese's love of and fascination with it makes sense.

Brennan knows Booth's face as well as her own. Has spent so many hours with him that she's certain she could look at his skull and see his face on it, she's that familiar with his bone structure and the symmetry of his features. Bastian's bust is life size and expertly carved. The marble creamy in color and lovingly polished to perfect smoothness, the features rendered with what she can only assume is amazing accuracy.

This face, in her mind the most beloved face in the world, Booth's face, and Bastian's, stares out at her from the alcove. Every feature exactly as she knows them, from the spacing of his eyes, to the shape of his nose. His beautifully cut mouth, the arch of his brows. The strong, infinitely masculine line of his jaw, it's all the same. She knew it would be, she's held Bastian's actual skull in her hands, and yet, the resemblance stuns her anew.

Tears prick at her eyes and strong waves of emotion pour through her, as the face of the man she loves stares out at her from the past.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Thirteen: In his thrall.

Gloucester House, London, England

June 1816

It is late and she has wandered aimlessly into the library in search of a distraction from all the contrary thoughts that she cannot close off in her mind. Her emotions are swinging every which way and if she had just been allowed to remain back at Berkley she concludes everything would have been much easier. As it is though, Therese is not happy to be in London, even though her twin charges are thrilled to have been included in the family's relocation to the capital. London is full of unhappy memories for her, the loss of her parents being chief amongst them, and she already misses the open fields of Gloucestershire, riding dear Nero and Berkley itself most of all.

It seems however that Bastian is finally concentrating on making a decision about a suitable bride, something that she knows he must do, but that causes her a sharp pain in the vicinity of her stomach whenever she thinks on it too long. It is at his insistence that his sister's have been brought to London along with their mother, and of course Therese, as he wishes his prospective bride to be acquainted with the girls and to get along with them. This is she believes, a very good thing as the twins' adoration of their older brother, their genuine desire to be around him as much as they can, will be much easier if Bastian's new wife is someone who will be fond of them too.

That Bastian would wish this of his wife, to care for his siblings as he does, only makes her love him even more; even as being here depresses her more every day. It's not that Gloucester House, Bastian's London home lacks in any comfort. The house is in Mayfair, the best part of town, and though no where near the scale of his principal seat at Berkley, the townhome is very large and even comes with stables in the rear. There is a large ballroom for entertaining, a very extensive library, the main dining parlor has a huge mahogany table seating thirty people comfortably, there is a breakfast parlor, main drawing room, second drawing room, smoking room, gaming room, servants quarters, it's truly impressive, but it doesn't feel like a home to her, more like a show piece of the Earldom's large coffers. It's a stage for very wealthy family's social triumphs.

And the latest of these triumphs is set to be the marriage of a man she has no business loving, but loves anyway. She can be, must be nothing to the Earl of Gloucester, and yet Sebastian Berkley will always be the man who holds her heart.

And though Bastian was insistent that Therese accompany the twins to London, stating clearly that he values their education and does not wish to disrupt it, she had feared he would use her presence in London to further put pressure on her to accept his offer. They have been resident in the Capital for ten days now and as she has barely seen him she must acquit him on this score. He has been very busy socially, such an eligible bachelor is invited to every soiree, every luncheon, her maid has told her off all the invitations that have flooded in since their arrival. She tries not to care that he is so diligently selecting a bride, and yet it cuts her deeply to know he will soon wed another, how can it not?

So she is caught firmly between what she knows is right, moral, and a wrong path her foolish heart longs to take. She would wish she'd never met him, and yet she cannot bring herself to want to return to world without the knowledge of his existence. He is too precious, too special a memory, this man who she knows somehow always sees the 'real' Therese, and who said he needed her.

Frustrated that her mind is yet again dwelling on this senseless subject, she stamps her foot in a rare display of temper and tries to concentrate instead on the reason for her late night visit to the library; a book, a good one, a novel, or maybe some poetry, but nothing of a romantic nature. It's supposed to distract her not send her thoughts along that road again tonight.

She is up a ladder and browsing the top shelf when Bastian enters the room, and seeing the object of his desire, dainty ankles peeking out from beneath her skirts, his gut twists hotly and he closes the door behind him very quietly indeed, no sense in warning her of his approach. He's barely seen anything of her since he got to London, trying to fulfill his duty to his title and keep his stepmother off his back has kept him from the house nearly every minute.

His planned campaign of seduction for Therese has been firmly forced to the background and now to find her here, so late and alone, a more perfect opportunity to try to convince her to accept his offer he could not have engineered.

He flips the lock on the door silently, and advances on her until he can stand at the bottom of the ladder holding her and gaze up her back at the rich silkiness of her dark hair confined primly by an army of hairpins, at the long creamy expanse of her neck, and the few tendril of hair that caress it. Every muscle in his body hardens, and when he speaks he barely recognizes his own voice, raw with passion.

"_Therese."_

Her name, spoken by his deep warm voice, caressed even, as something precious. It startles her and turning quickly to find him she slips, losing her footing on the ladder she falls. Bastian moves like lighting, his strong arms catch her, haul her against a hard male chest, steely strength cages her and he breathes her name again, a whisper against her hair.

She should struggle to be released, but she's felt so lost the last ten days, has missed his face, his voice, so much, that instead of struggling to be free she finds herself nestling closer, relaxing trustingly against him and listening to the frantic thudding of his heart beneath her cheek. She steals a moment to be the woman in arms, allows herself to notice how at home she feels here. It is not her place, she knows this, but for this one moment she pretends, enjoys the fantasy of having him as hers.

Bastian relishes the feel of her against him, she fits there, in his arms, next to his heart, in a way no other woman ever has. She feels so right there, as if this is her place, hers and no others. Tenderly he holds her, gathers her close, until he cannot stand to have her be this close, and not kiss her another minute. His hand creeps up and tips her face up, her eyes are huge in a pale face and he lowers his head slowly, he gives her time to see his intent and stop him, he waits a moment further and she does not pull back.

He lowers his head all the way.

Their lips touch and hold, then he teases her bottom lip with his tongue and on a sigh she opens her mouth to him, allows his tongue to surge deep. For long moments he contents himself with only this, to hold her in his arms and kiss her so sweetly, but lust is flowing in his veins and one hand finally moves, almost of it's own will, to caress the gentle swell of her breast, to tease her through her dress, to enflame her, and he feels her body react. His other hand slides up into her hair, pulling the pins loose, fingers tangling in the heavy mass as he frees it, lets it cascade down her back. His hand returns to her cradle his jaw, molding her to him.

She presses against his hand, and moans her appreciation into his mouth when he increases the pressure. Her response, her innocent passion, the way she simply reacts to him without artifice or guile, never did he imagine that his own body, one so familiar with physical pleasure could be so stirred by anyone. He's on fire, his muscles hardened to steel, he wants nothing more than to rip every piece of clothing from both their bodies and take her right here on the library floor. It's madness. It's too fast, and though he doesn't want to stop, he wants to seduce her, to make her burn for him slowly; she needs to want him so much she can no longer think clearly. And she must come to him, must give herself knowingly, consenting to be his mistress.

He breaks the kiss, gasping for air; he forces himself to release her, to step away.

Therese stares up at him, breathing heavily, shocked at her body's response, at the liquid heat between her legs, the tightness in her chest, an aching emptiness within her crying out for him. For his possession.

"_I . . . my lord?"_ Her voice shakes; she does not know what to say.

Bastian can read the confusion in her eyes, the contradictory impulses. This is what he wanted, for her to start questioning her refusal of him. For tonight that must be enough, she must want him, but not fear him.

He steps close again, she tenses, minutely, but he notices. Slowly he brings a hand up, tenderly he tucks her now loose hair behind her ears, his fingers stroking along her jaw quickly.

"_I apologize Therese, but I must ask, have you reconsidered my offer, it remains open."_

He isn't surprised when she shakes her head; he knows this will take more time.

Taking a deep calming breath he nods slowly at her. _"Very well."_ A change of subject is required, clearly. He thinks quickly.

"_You were looking for a book then; may I assist you in finding a suitable volume?"_ He smiles charmingly, trying to banish the awkwardness.

Stunned at his rapid change of topic Therese feels her urgent need to run away dissipate, replaced by a desire to spend a few more stolen moments in his company. She finds herself smiling back, the frantic beating of her heart returning to a more normal rhythm.

"_I was looking for a novel my lord, something modern."_ Books, this is safe subject, they can talk about books surely? She glances around the room, there are as many books here as in the library at Berkley, this could take a while – hopefully she thinks.

Bastian begins to explain his definitely eclectic organization of the contents of this room, happy for now simply to be with her at all.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fourteen: Booth makes a decision.

Washington, D.C

Dec 2010

The day after his evening visit to Avalon Harmonia, Booth finds himself so consumed by feelings of dread that he cannot function properly at all. Half of him seems to be saying he's over-reacting, that Avalon cannot possibly predict his future as the future is unknowable; the other half is completely convinced that she's right and somehow everything has gone horribly wrong.

Everything he's done for the last six years has had a single goal at its core, and that goal has been simple enough, keep Bones in your life. This goal has not changed even now, going back to the Army, and even his decision to start dating Hannah have been motivated by it.

He gave Brennan exactly what she wanted, his continuing presence as her partner, he'd asked, no he'd practically begged for what he wanted, and at her refusal he'd told her what had to happen then in order for them to remain partners. And she agreed. And yet somehow giving her what she wanted will result in a future that destroys their partnership. It makes no sense that this should be the case; he's never going to desert her, as he truly isn't capable of it, so this means she's going to be the one who ends things. Why? If what they have now is what she wanted, in God's name why?

There is only one explanation he can come up with, and if he's right then everything suddenly makes sense, awful sense, mind-numbing, and life altering, holy crap kinda sense.

And if he is right, then it's a hell of mess, all of it, everything.

So does he even want to be right?

At this moment, he honestly doesn't know what he feels. Because he doesn't know if he is right or not – he needs help here.

He's just coming to this conclusion when his phone beeps in his pocket, a text message. He pulls the smart phone out and the display tells him it's a message from Cam. It doesn't say much; just 'Get over here NOW.'

Cam obviously isn't in the mood for pleasantries. Well he's accomplishing precisely nothing at his desk today, so he might just as well go and visit the 'Squintonian', apparently just phoning Cam isn't going to work. He sends her a reply, 'Shessshh, on my way.' Then he grabs his jacket and his keys and heads for the parking garage. Maybe he'll even talk to Cam about Avalon and her cards, and about his 'conclusion'; he can always count on Camille to give him a straight answer.

At the Jeffersonian Cam stares at her phone while Angela Montenegro taps her foot impatiently. When the phone beeps with an answering text from Booth, they both smile at each other.

"_Well he's coming."_ Cam says. _"Hope you know what you're doing Angela?"_

The artist sends the pathologist a look that clearly says 'Please . . . of course I do.' Then she points at the computer screen on Cam's desk. _"Look at this Cam." _Angela taps the screen for emphasis, where an email from Brennan is displayed. "_This is not the Temperance Brennan I know and love, she's hiding. She thinks it'll all just be easier if she's not here right now, and the holidays are a big part of that. She always hated Christmas, when I first met her she refused to celebrate it at all. Then Booth shows up and he fixes it all and drags her out to play, and now she doesn't want to be here because of him. Because she doesn't want to watch him celebrate it without her, it's not Christmas for her if he isn't with her. He needs to understand this. This has gone on long enough, has gotten serious enough that tough measures are called for."_

Cam's face is grave, etched with worry. _"I hear what you're saying. God knows I never expected things to turn out this way. But Booth is happy Angela, I can tell. And frankly Hannah is a great person, they make an awesome couple. It's not our place to interfere with that is it?"_

Angela sighs. _"I wish it wasn't necessary. But Brennan and Booth, I love them both and right now, watching them destroy everything they could have because they won't talk to each other, at least not openly. If I don't interfere, if I don't say anything and they break, none of our lives are going to be the same Cam. If they lose each other, we all lose, and I liked things the way they used to be. I want it back."_

Cam puts her arm around Angela and squeezes, together they stare at Brennan's email.

"_Yeah me too."_ She admits. _"Me too."_

Brennan's email says simply.

'Dr. Saroyan,

I am almost finished with my final identifications here, I have been somewhat delayed by bad weather. I am intending to complete my work and then extend my vacation, I believe I still have enough back dated vacation days to cover a three month leave, but an additional three weeks will suffice. I trust this meets with your approval as things are appear quiet back home. I shall be away for Christmas; I am planning to remain at Berkley until after then. If my assistance is requested by the FBI, please have Dr. Edison liaise with Booth in my place.

Kind regards,

Temperance Brennan.'

"_It is very formal isn't it? Why didn't she just call me?"_ Cam's distress is evident.

"_She doesn't want to talk about it and she thinks we don't know how unhappy she is, and not wanting to make things harder on her I think we've all been playing along."_ Cam nods, Angela is of course right.

Angela continues, and now she sounds pissed. _"And the irony of all this, is that we all know and the person who should know, the one who usually would see, is the only one blindly not noticing."_

"_Booth."_ Cam replies.

"_Booth."_ Angela agrees.

The women look at each, their irritation with their FBI colleague written clearly across both their faces. Those twin looks of annoyance are still there when Booth arrives twenty minutes later in response to Cam's summons.

Booth wanders into Cam's office to find Angela ready to close the door behind him, but Angela doesn't leave him alone with Cam, instead she stands behind her bosses shoulder and they both give a look that says – 'Deep trouble, and you're the one in it.'

Booth swallows convulsively before he inquires as to the request for his presence.

"_Okay you two . . . why am I here?"_ He sounds strained.

The women respond in unison. _"Brennan."_

Booth's eyes narrow, he's already had one conversation on this subject with Angela, a conversation verging into territory really none of her business in his mind, and yet that same conversation prompted his visit with Avalon and that visit is the direct cause of his current roiling emotions. Not knowing what to expect he answers very cagily.

"_Is Bones okay?"_

Cam answers, her arm shooting behind her to shush Angela's fermenting response.

"_Physically – yes she's fine. It's her emotional state that has us worried; she's behaving in a manner we haven't seen in a long time. She's regressing Booth, retreating back into old patterns to protect herself. What has us even more concerned it that we are bringing this to your attention, you know her better than anyone else, so why aren't you seeing this?"_

Booth sighs, mumbles to himself. _"So I'm right."_

Angela leaps on his pronouncement. _"Right about what?"_

"_It's Hannah right? I'm involved with Hannah and that has Bones acting weird."_

Angela and Cam both snort at him, the later says, _"And the puck drops."_

"_Ha ha."_ He responds, momentarily covering his eyes with his hand_. "What was I supposed to do?"_ He tells them. _"I begged her to take a chance, I told her I've always known we're meant for each other, and she turned ME down. She didn't want me, not that way, she wanted our partnership to remain as it was, and it has. I told her I had to move on then, that I would find someone who did want me, and I've done that. So you tell me . . . what am I supposed to do now?"_

Two pairs of brown eyes widen at his news, he sees a sort of comprehension dawn for them both, Angela replies in a shocked whisper.

"_That's why she went to Maluku? Why you went back to the Army? You actually asked her to be with you and she turned you down?"_

There is misery in his eyes when he nods. The wound he thought had healed rips wide open, the awful pain of her rejection of him that night laid bare for all to see.

"_You didn't know that?"_ he asks. _"Sweets knows, I guess he never said anything either."_

Probably felt too guilty about pushing us over the edge Booth thinks, a little unkindly because he didn't have to take the doctor's advice.

Angela shakes her head. _"She never said anything about it, neither did Sweets. I mean I thought something had happened, but I thought the Gravedigger thing was the reason she wanted out for a while. When I asked her she said she was tired of being worried all the time, and that she'd lost her objectivity. She said taking some time away would help her gain some perspective, and it did Booth. I've been trying to tell you, she came back ready to give you what you wanted and you came back with Hannah."_

And this is the mind-numbing, life altering, how come he didn't see it conclusion he's already come too. What a mess.

"_And I'm happy with Hannah."_ This is the truth also, he thinks he might be in love with Hannah, because he hasn't been this happy in ages, and yet, if his happiness comes at the cost of Brennan's . . . he can't bear the thought of it.

He and Angela simply stare at each other in horror. Cam takes a deep breath and plunges ahead.

"_Look big guy, we can't tell you what to do or who to love. We shouldn't be in the middle of this, but we're all like a family and you know it. And families interfere, they just do. So because we want only the best for you both, here we are sticking our noses in the middle. Its obvious Brennan is unhappy, and she's hiding it from you at least, and she thinks she's hiding it from us. She hasn't told us this, but from what you're saying it seems she went to Maluku to think and you went to Afghanistan to get over her. The question is, are you over her? Because we're pretty sure she decided to give you guys a shot, and seeing you with another woman is breaking her heart."_

Trust Camille to break it down for him, and lay out the facts plainly. It's the big question, the one three people's futures depend on. The question is not whether or not he loves Hannah, she's easy to love. The question is whether his heart is over Bones, and the answer is easy, a simple fact. No. He loves her, he always has and no matter what happens he always will. She's a part of him, like his brown eyes and his true aim. He's killed for her, lied for her, 'died' for her, and he would do it all over again. In a heartbeat. As much as she's hurt him, and make no mistake he thinks, because she did hurt him terribly, that doesn't matter because against the power of his love for her it fades to nothing. If he stays with Hannah, then when witnessing their relationship progress becomes too much, Brennan will leave and as Avalon predicted the future of their partnership is nothing. They become nothing. This is not something he can live with.

So in the end it all comes down to Bones, because in the end she is all that matters.

He looks at Cam and then at Angela, concern and love burn bright in their gazes, he's lucky to have friends like these, they both are.

"_I am happy with Hannah,"_ he begins, shooting Angela a deadly look as she opens her mouth to protest. _"But . . ."_ he continues. _"But, aside from Parker, Bones is the most important person in the entire world to me; and I know you both know that. I can't stop loving her, I don't know how. So if she truly wants to give us a shot, and I guess that's something I'm going to have to go and find out, then of course I'm going to give her that chance."_

Twin shrieks are the only warning he gets before he's pounced on.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Fifteen: Caught.

Gloucester House,

London, England

June 1816

Bastian did not stop his campaign with the kiss in the library, and Therese soon understood that she had been right when she suspected he would use her presence in London, to continue his assault on her senses in his drive to obtain her consent to be his mistress.

Ten days after their late night meeting in the library and he's wearing her down, she's so distracted and so aware of him that she's finding resistance harder and harder to come by.

Clearly, she thought there was more than one motive behind his insistence that his sister's come to the Capital too.

She does not want him to wear her down, giving in to these physical impulses will only lead her into a life she does not desire; and yet . . . and yet . . . she's never felt anything like this before; the intoxication of being so single-mindedly pursued by such a man as Bastian Berkley. She is twenty nine and unmarried, neither petite nor fine-boned as is the current fashion, tall and willowy she is also neither rich nor connected. She is outspoken and over-educated to most men's minds, and yet Bastian appears to desire her insanely, and professes to have wanted no other as he wants her. And she cannot doubt his desire; he's made it very, very plain.

Since that night when she ended up in his arms after falling off the library ladder, he's seemed to appear out of nowhere whenever she is alone.

First he cornered her at the far end of the gardens when she was coming back from exploring the stables here. They are nothing to the stables at the castle, but still very fine and though Nero remains at Berkley, Bastian's magnificent black horse 'Lucifer' is quartered here awaiting his master's needs. Therese had decided to sketch him, and had spent a very happy couple of hours with the grooms and the stable lads as she worked on it. Leaving the stable she made her way back through the gates and into the gardens and before she could make the long lawn sweeping up to the rear of the house a strong arm wrapped itself around her waist, pulled her off her feet and the next thing she knew he had her pinned against the trunk of a large elm tree out of sight. He silenced her outraged shriek with his lips.

Warm and firm they moved over hers, their movements calculated to earn her capitulation to his needs. Without her conscious consent her arms wound themselves around his neck, and she pressed herself to his chest, her body seeming to respond against her will. He groaned, and pressed himself fully to her, and for the first time she felt the real evidence of his desire. Hot, hard, shocking, he held himself against her until finally, her whole body protesting she shoved against his shoulders with her hands and he released her.

His gaze was volcanic, the force of it heating her everywhere.

"_Therese, have you changed your mind?"_ His voice was almost unrecognizable, distorted.

She struggled to find her hers. _"No. My lord."_ Face flushed she shook her head.

Mumbled under his breath his curses still reached her. Then he said simply, _"Very well."_ Stepped out from behind the elm and strode for the house like the hounds of hell were on his heels.

Two days later it happened again; this time in the stables themselves. She'd gotten up very early, as is her custom these days, something to do with lack of sleep and disturbing dreams when she does get some rest. She was working on finishing her sketch of Lucifer, she wanted to gift it to Bastian, a small thank you for the use of Nero, and so she had once again gone to the stables. They were deserted, which despite the hour was a little unusual. Still she paid it little mind until she entered Lucifer's stall, a small stool in one hand and her sketch pad and pencil in the other. She placed her stool down and deposited her pad upon it, then taking a small apple out of a pocket in her gown she offered it to the black horse. Gentle lips took her gift before large teeth chomped it down and then she stepped closer, rubbing the horses' long velvet nose happily.

Long arms reached around her from both sides, trapping her facing the horse, she went to take a step back and found a wall of hard male chest behind her. She knew instantly it was Bastian, every nerve tingling she didn't have to see him, her body knew it was he.

Fighting to remain calm, for she knew he would never physically harm her, she waited patiently, determined that she would not respond to him. Her determination was obliterated in moments. Bastian lowered his mouth to the junction of her shoulder and her neck, and then he bit down. Hard. Sensation streaked from her shoulder to the area between her thighs and she could feel herself melting, leaning back against him on a whispered sigh. Soothing the bite with his tongue he began to kiss up her neck and along her jaw line, taking her earlobe into the scalding heat of his mouth and sucking on it hard. Dizzy, she felt her knees give, and then suddenly he was carrying her, a huge pile of hay lay in the far corner of the stall, he laid her upon it and followed her down, his weight pinning her beneath him as he kissed her mouth. Ravenously.

And this time she didn't fight him, simply unable to deny his need until she felt a strong hand sliding her gown up her legs, and then she felt fear along with her own mounting desire, and sanity returned. She struggled away, and he did not hold her, letting her go at the very first sign of distress.

Therese struggled to her feet on very wobbly legs and brushed frantically at her gown to remove the hay stuck all over it.

Bastian stood, crossed over to her and tipping her face up to meet his with gentle fingers he whispered softly. _"Let me."_

He waited for her to nod her consent, and then he deftly removed all traces of hay from her dress and her hair with steady hands. When she was presentable, he smiled sadly.

"_Still you fight me. End this torment Therese, say you'll be mine."_

Looking in his warm brown gaze she could read his distress all too clearly. It hurt to deny him what she could see he wanted so much, because she loved him, she only desired to make him happy, but it was still wrong.

"_I can't. I will not be a whore my lord."_

Bastian shook his head. _"It's just a word Therese, it doesn't represent what exists between us, and it cheapens our feelings, mine and yours."_

Therese turned away. _"That makes no difference."_ She stated finally, and then she fled.

The next time he found on her on the back stairs only the servants use, a place he had no reason to be, and a place no servant would ever expect to meet their master. She was hurrying to the school-room after luncheon, taking a route she considered safe from an encounter with him and then he was there, pinning her to the wall with his body, his mouth hot and demanding on hers.

This time he broke the kiss before she came to her senses and started to struggle.

Pinning her with his gaze as his body pinned her to the wall at her back he looked searchingly in her eyes before he demanded in a tortured whisper . . .

"_At least tell me you want me Therese, give me that much."_

She should lie, she should deny, but she did not, could not.

"_I want you. I will not give in to it my lord, but I do want you."_

A smile like the sun lit his face for once blazing moment, then he released her and vanished down the stairs silently, so quickly it was like he'd never been there.

She got through the afternoon lessons in a daze, kicking herself for what she had admitted to him. How would she ever convince him to end his pursuit now?

For the last four days she's been insanely careful to venture everywhere in company when at all possible. Only when she knows he is gone from the house for a social engagement does she let her guard down. His words are like a worm inside her brain; on endless repeat she hears them again and again and again. 'Tell me you want me, tell me you want me, tell me you want me, tell me you want me,' she feels like screaming. He is all she can think about, his kisses, his taste, his smell, the strength of his arms around her, the feel of his weight on her, all things she has no business knowing and yet all she craves is more. More knowledge, intimate knowledge, she wants to give herself up to his desire, to be his in all ways. Holding out against not only his desire but her own is growing increasingly impossible to sustain and she begins to feel real fear that she is not strong enough to continue fighting what's between them.

She never imagined feeling like these could exist.

She picks at her dinner and with no appetite that can be slaked by mere food she finds herself thankful that Bastian has gone to the opera for the evening in company with Alastair Berkley, while the dowager is entertaining friends in the drawing room, more mothers of her acquaintance with daughters of marriageable age; more prospective brides for the Earl of Gloucester. Small wonder Bastian has gone out, Therese smiles to herself, it must be something awful to be hounded into marriage in this fashion, and she feels for him.

She collects some sewing from her room and makes her way to the smaller drawing room. With Bastian out, it is safe for her to sit and sew here, as Alathea will not use this one if she has friends with her, and the twins are with their mother also. She has mending that needs to be done as she limits severely what she will spend on new clothes, preferring to save as much as she can for the future, and she is handy and deft with a needle anyway so her repairs are almost undetectable in the end. It is easier to sew by lamp light here than by candle light in her chamber, so she settles herself comfortably in a large chair with her back to the door and loses herself in her task.

She does not hear him enter the room.

He creeps up behind her chair and slips his hands over her eyes, leaning down to whisper in her ear, _"Guess who."_

She does not require many guesses, shocked she pulls his hands from her eyes, and standing lets her sewing slip from her lap onto the floor unnoticed as she backs away.

"_What are you doing in here?"_ She asks startled.

Bastian grins at her in his most charming manner. _"It is my house."_

"_But you went to the opera with Alastair."_

"_It was boring. Alastair wanted to gamble instead and so I left him at White's with a pretty blonde on his arm. I don't think he even noticed I slipped away."_ He begins to advance on her; she reads his intent is to continue trying to seduce her from the set of his face.

She bends to grab her mending, wondering if he'll make his move before she can collect her things and leave.

"_Well I should go then. Good night, my lord."_ She trips over her words in her haste to beat a retreat. She stuffs the sewing in to her bag as quickly as she can but Bastian has no intention of letting her go without a fight.

When she's packed the last of her things and turns for the door he steps up behind her and cages her within his arms.

"_Stay. Please Therese." _Longing coats his words.

She can't speak, his nearness, the answering longing within her, this insane wanting he inspires, effectively it ties her tongue. It's all she can do to shake her head.

"_Turn and look at me."_ He pleads. The arms around her slacken enough only to permit her to turn and face him if she wishes.

She shakes her head again.

"_Look at me please."_ He whispers it across the sensitive nape of her neck, warm puffs of air feathering over her skin.

She turns without meaning too, his need as always calling out to something nameless within her that does not want to resist. As soon as she is facing him his mouth descends, and this time he demands with his kisses, and she yields her mouth to him, unable to do otherwise.

Lost in their embrace, drowning in their rising passion, neither hears voices approaching the drawing room from the corridor outside. They do not hear the door flung wide.

Bastian's hands creep, one to her lower back, pressing her firmly against his arousal, the other to caress her breast through her gown, and it is in this flagrant display that they are caught.

"_Sebastian. What the devil are you doing?"_ The dowager countesses' voice rings out across the room in outrage.

Swiftly Bastian releases Therese, stepping in front of her; he shields her from the newcomers. Alathea has five other women with her, all of them staring at him in shock, the younger ones twittering and pointing at Therese in apparent amazement.

Bastian's voice is hard, the authority behind it in every word. _"Tell your guests to leave the room Alathea, NOW."_

She does not need to tell them, all of the women immediately turn and go, leaving him facing his stepmother and one hell of a mess.


	17. Chapter 17

A big thank you to all the readers of this fan-fiction who have so kindly posted such nice reviews – they mean more than you can know to every amateur storyteller.

Chapter Sixteen: The realization in the diary.

Berkley Castle, England

Dec 2010

The roads in the countryside surrounding Berkley Castle are still frankly pretty treacherous, and Brennan has come to the conclusion that British people do not know how to drive in the snow. The amount of fender-benders and cars sliding all over the place would be funny if she wasn't already slightly uncomfortable driving on what she considers to be the 'wrong' side of the road. Richard's assertions that snow this deep is extremely rare even in the hills, makes complete sense. But it sure is pretty. And enjoying the sheer beauty of the place all dusted in white more than makes up for the minor inconvenience of having to delay finishing her identifications. It's not like she's desperate to get on a plane anyway, she's not going anywhere for several weeks.

Now that her decision to stay has been made, she feels better about the impending holidays. The festive atmosphere in the castle, the friendly staff, and especially her new friendship with Richard Berkley, all these things have all served to cheer her immensely. She'll miss her Jeffersonian family, and her Dad, Russ, Amy and the girls, and Booth, most especially Booth this year, but being away and being sad about it, is a far easier prospect than going home and being sad about it.

And she has the Ball to look forward too, and for some reason just the thought of the Ball puts a smile on her face, she can't decide exactly why she's so excited about it, but she thinks it must have something to do with Therese and Bastian, and living out a fantasy.

Maybe it's the whole period costume thing that has her so jazzed, she secretly loves to dress up, and the Jeffersonian Halloween Party is always one of her favorite nights of the year. Granted she always goes in her Wonder Woman outfit, but it's the dressing up itself that she enjoys. Choosing a period gown for the Ball will be fun, and as soon as she can get safely into Bristol – which as it's a lot larger than Gloucester itself is where she's decided to go – she's anxious to get looking.

In the meantime, she has another snowy day to kill, and Therese's diaries are calling out to her, demanding she sit with a large china teapot full of fragrant tea and lose herself in them. Leaving all her worries for the moment aside and learning more of Therese's.

She begins after breakfast, collecting three volumes from her pile she finds a cozy spot in the Library where a roaring fire has been lit. No other guests are currently there so she rings for some tea and settles in the window seat overlooking the east lawns. Her tea arrives, the castle staff has come to know her and they've added a plate piled high with chocolate digestives for her also, she grins at it, pours some tea and begins to read.

She looks up three hours and four cups of tea later, wiping tears from her face in amazement. The diary she's reading details Bastian's ardent pursuit of Therese the summer he moved his sister's and Therese to London for the season. Supposed to be searching for a proper bride, Therese writes over and over that Bastian is diligently looking for a wife and all the while trying his damndest to convince Therese to become his mistress. His approach seems to consist of cornering her alone and then kissing the life out of her, using her physical reaction to him to further his aim.

Brennan gives him an A for effort. If Booth had tried that approach on her she might even have caved also. It surprises Brennan how clearly she is able to picture everything Therese describes, what she reads is eerie, more like her own memories than someone else's life, it unsettles her, she can't rationally explain how it all makes her feel. It's like reading about something you've forgotten, rather than something you never knew, from Gloucester House, the Earl's London home, to the stables, to Therese's chamber, and most especially the drawing room in which Bastian and Therese were caught, in what Therese describes as a 'lovers embrace', what she sees in her minds-eye haunts her.

Caught by no less than six people, one of them Bastian's stepmother, Therese's reputation was destroyed in seconds, her career as a well paid governess ended, leaving her with a bleak future to look forward too. Brennan knows how rigid English society was back then; how everything was appearances, how a woman's reputation could be so easily sullied. And then came a miracle, caring only about protecting Therese, Bastian, an Earl, asks a governess to marry him, and it's Therese's detail of her refusal of his proposal that has moved Brennan to tears, bringing back vivid memories of rejecting Booth that awful night so long ago now. She does not believe in reincarnation, it's a scientific impossibility, and still she feels like she somehow made the same mistake twice. The entry reads . . .

'Bastian told me to go to my chamber, that he needed to speak with the Dowager and would talk to me later, so I fled the drawing room at once, knowing there was nothing he could say to save me. I knew he would try the guilty expression in his eyes, the regret was palpable, but it made no difference, I was ruined. The look on the Dowager's face had said everything; she was disgusted by my behavior and would see me dismissed by morning. I had nowhere to go.

I cursed myself for a fool, I should have been far firmer, far more decided in my rejections of him, but once I had fallen in love to deny him anything he wanted was torture itself. I began to pack, not having much it did not take me a great length of time, I had left some things in my chamber at Berkley, I hoped that when I knew where I was going Bastian would send them on. My only thought was that if Robert, my brother is in better circumstances he might offer me some assistance. I had sufficient funds to take me to Scotland and to support me for a while in my search, the last time I spoke with my brother it was his intention to relocate there, but that was long ago and I had little hope. At least Scotland is a very long way from London, and from Berkley, maybe my shattered reputation would not follow me there.

Maybe in Scotland I could learn to forget.

Bastian came to my room very late that night, his soft knock on my door would not have woken me if I had been sleeping, but fears for the future kept me wakeful, and I did not worry about him being seen at my door, the damage had already been done. I let him in.

His face was ashen, but the resolve and the determination that emanated from him filled the room. He took me immediately in his arms and held me close, and sobbing I let him.

He told me not to cry, that he would never let anything harm me, that he considered it his first duty to protect me, and that he was so sorry for everything he had done. I did not understand what he was telling me, until he seated me on my bed and went down on his knees.

"_I love you."_ He told me. _"I only realized how very much when Alathea started to abuse your character to me. She demanded that I get my whore out of the house at once, that she would not have her children instructed by such a person, and I was so blind with rage that she could speak of you that way. You, who have become my life, and then I understood I was trying to treat you no better. That my intentions had been entirely selfish, my concern for you genuine but clouded by wrong thinking. You had to come before me, what you needed was far more important that what I did. It was terribly wrong of me to ask you to be my mistress, for it is my wife you should be. My Countess and the mother of my children. I ask you to make me the happiest man alive Therese Brandon and consent to marry me."_

It was the hardest thing in the world to refuse him, when every part of me longed to accept. There were two reasons I could not agree, both of them driven by the depth of my love for him. Firstly, the sacrifice he was proposing was too large to permit. His wealth and position would protect me, but people would always look at us and conclude I had trapped him. They would talk, they would behave one way towards me and another way behind my back, his place in society, his name and title, all were too important and too noble to sully. I could not permit it. Secondly, though I did not doubt he loved me at this moment, I could not, would not allow myself to forget that Bastian was at his core a nobleman. Men of his station did not often marry for love, and fidelity was an entirely foreign concept to them. One day he would no longer love me as he did now, and he would follow the usual path and take a mistress, if I was his wife I would be forced to witness his eventual withdrawal, one day I would know he was no longer mine. I knew I could never bear it, I knew now it would destroy me.

I did not confess either reason to him, afraid he would find ways to convince me, instead I simply told him I could not marry him; that I did not wish too. He did not believe me.

"_Therese I know you love me. You would never have kissed me back at all if you did not. Sweetheart, we will be so happy, I don't give a fig that you're a governess, that you have no dowry, no connections. All that matters is our love for each other, so marry me Therese, say yes."_

Weeping I repeated my refusal, still he did not accept it, and suddenly I knew the only way to make it plain was to give him no choice in the matter. So I would have to vanish, somewhere he would not look. Once I was gone, he would forget me soon enough, it seemed Scotland still suited my plans. I told him I needed to rest, that perhaps things would look different in the morning; it was enough to get him to leave. As I looked at his face for the last time, I tried to memorize every detail, for I would not see him again.'

Even though she knows how things turned out, the power of Therese's words, the utter heartbreak Therese experienced before Bastian found her again tears right through her. The night she told Booth 'No' she was so certain she was doing the right thing, the only thing possible. Just like Therese she thought she knew best, only to discover later that just like Bastian, Booth was the smart one all along.

When Therese left Bastian behind she knew she was facing an agony that would most likely never leave her, a regret that would always be there. Brennan had known that same feeling too, had thought she was protecting Booth in one way and her own shy heart at the same time, so just like Therese; she had duel motives, and got the same result.

Pain. Separation. Despair.

But at least Therese got her happy ending eventually. If their lives are a mirror Brennan wonders, then where is hers? For there is only one happy ending she can imagine and it's the same one Therese was granted. Bastian refused to give up, so why didn't Booth?

The inescapable truth of her situation is that she never really believed Booth would move on, even when she was engineering it. She did not consciously set out to test his love by refusing it, but she can see now that's really what she did. She wonders if she'll find that same realization further on in Therese's diaries, as Therese clearly did the same thing.

Brennan sighs, closes the diary and sits back.

This then is what she was looking for, confirmation that this stupid course she chose doesn't have to mean the end. Therese screwed up the night she fled London, and she caused herself and Bastian months and months of pain, but in the end Bastian had the strength and the commitment necessary to put everything right.

Brennan can only hope Booth will find it within him to do the same.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Seventeen: Vanished.

Gloucester House, London, England

June 1816

"_What do you mean she's gone?"_ Staring at his Butler Dobbs in abject horror, Sebastian Berkley realized suddenly that he was yelling; but what Dobbs was telling him could not possibly be true. It just couldn't.

The aging Butler looks sheepishly at his master. _"Apologies my lord, but we've searched everywhere, her room has been emptied of her possessions and she is nowhere to be found. All the horses are accounted for however, so she must have left on foot either very late last night or extremely early this morning, the side door to the gardens has been found unlocked."_

Bastian paces his study liked a caged tiger, fear and frustration escalating with every crossing of the room. Therese has gone, packed and left and he does not have any idea where to start looking for her. What the hell is she thinking? He offered to marry her last night, he confessed his love for her on his knees even, and he knows she loves him back, so what the hell is going on? This was not a dishonorable offer for an illicit affair, he asked her to be his Countess, a position that would provide her with security, position, title and most importantly a life filled with his love. It's impossible that she doesn't want it.

He can't imagine what she must be thinking that she would decide to disappear instead. Is it conceivable that after he left her to rest last night, and granted he had not secured her consent to marry him, in fact she refused him twice with no reason, but still, something MUST have happened to make her leave? Alathea. Perhaps his stepmother is behind this.

Bastian charges out of the study, almost knocking Dobbs over in his haste, striding for the breakfast parlor he starts shouting in earnest.

"_Alathea. Damn it woman what the hell have you done? Alathea, if you are behind this I will turn you out of this house!"_ Servants in his path scatter like geese and when he reaches the parlor door he almost wrenches it off its hinges as he pulls the door open towards him.

Inside he finds his frightened looking twin siblings and their mother at breakfast. Pinning both Eliza and Alicia with his stare he says in a deathly quiet tone. _"Out girls. Now."_

His sisters comply quickly and quietly, though Alicia stops to squeeze his hand briefly as she passes, Bastian looks down into her face, so much like his own and smiles as reassuringly as he can manage at the current time. Only once he hears the door click closed behind the twins does he return his gaze to the Dowager.

Alathea Berkley frowns at him indignantly. _"How dare you walk through my house yelling for me! After that outrageous display last night I expect an apology Sebastian."_ Her tone is calm, and cold.

Holding onto the reins of his temper by a very thin thread, Bastian replies, his tone is glacial, designed to cut deep.

"_I shall walk through MY house yelling at whomever I choose Alathea; you are only permitted here because I allow it. And I allow it because of the twins, because you are their mother and I have not been inclined to separate your children from you. I remind you however that my father left my sisters in MY ward, and that while the estate provides for you financially I am under no obligation to house you at any time, or on any of my properties. Do you understand me?"_

The Dowager Countess colors but does not back down. _"I am the Countess of Gloucester and your father's wife, how dare you address me in this manner, your father would be outraged."_

Bastian smirks. _"My father despised you Alathea, that's why he only impregnated you once. Need I remind you that I am the Earl? Everything you see around you belongs to me, never forget it, or that your place here is entirely contingent on my good humor. So answer me now and answer me truthfully – are you in any way responsible for Therese's disappearance from this house?"_

Her mouth twisting into a contemptuous smile she replies. _"So your whore has fled you has she? Saves me the trouble of having her forcibly removed."_

Bastian's hold on his temper snaps, and he makes no attempt to hold back. He steps around the table and hauls Alathea to her feet, shaking her almost cruelly.

"_You are NEVER to speak of her in that manner to me or to anyone again. She has committed no crime, and has far more honor and integrity than anyone I know. Despite what you saw she has never been to my bed, she is not my mistress but the woman I will marry. Understand that Alathea. Therese will be my wife and you will show her respect."_

Tugging free from Bastian's grip on her arm, Alathea takes a step away from him; there is horror written in every line of her face.

"_Marriage? You cannot. It's not possible that you intend to offer marriage to that woman! She is nothing, you are an Earl. This is preposterous what you propose, it's outrageous."_

His gaze as lethal, as cutting as a sword, Bastian says. _"I AM an Earl, and I shall marry whomever I choose. I do not require, nor do I ask for your blessing or your consent. Therese Brandon is my choice, so I ask you one final time Alathea, have you seen or spoken to her since you discovered us last night?"_

Alathea returns to her seat trembling, the precarious nature of her position is becoming clearer. Sitting once more she shakes her head and answers deferentially. _"I have not seen or spoken to her Sebastian. I do not know why she has abandoned you, especially in light of your offer to her."_

"_You are sure of this; because if I discover otherwise Alathea I will make good on my threat to turn you from this house. You will not be permitted to see the twins, nor will any of the family acknowledge you socially if they expect to have any relationship with me."_

Alathea is stunned by the sheer force of will she detects behind his words.

"_You would do that?"_

He does not hesitate. _"In a heartbeat. That and more, I love her Alathea."_

Alathea can see the truth of it burning bright in his eyes. She swallows.

"_I am telling you the truth Sebastian. I do not know where she is."_

Satisfied that he has made plain to Alathea what will happen to her if she causes any trouble, Bastian leaves her in the parlor and returns to his study, Dobbs trailing behind him. If Alathea did not make her leave, then Therese chose to go by herself, he just doesn't know why.

"_What do you wish me to do my lord?"_

Real fear is beginning to settle in Bastian's stomach. Fear for Therese. She has no family to speak of, little money, few possessions and no reference she can use. Where on earth would she go, and how will she get there? The thought of her alone, friendless, unprotected and on the streets is a dagger twisted inside him. He cannot bear to think of any harm befalling her, she is the most precious thing in his life, and he's only just beginning to understand how deep his love for her runs. He has to find her, he just has too. Because he does not doubt that she loves him in return, in his soul he knows this. So whatever reasons she had for leaving, either she thinks she's protecting him, or she doubts his love for her, and both these reasons he can and will overcome. But he must find her first.

Dobbs stands patiently before him awaiting instructions, and Bastian suddenly knows where to start at least.

"_Send a runner to every house in Mayfair, use a groom, a stable hand, a parlor maid, whatever staff you need call them into service. Give them her description and ask if any have seen her. Contact every hackney company, every stagecoach and every stable. If she has left London then she had to have a means to travel. We must find it." _

Reaching into his waistcoat pocket he pulls out a key on a chain and unlocks a draw in his huge mahogany desk. Withdrawing a large pile of banknotes he hands the pile to an astounded Dobbs.

"_You'll need to pay for accurate information Dobbs. Use whatever is necessary."_

"_But my lord, that must be five hundred pounds, it's a king's ransom that is."_

Bastian presses the money into the reluctant Butler's hand. _"Nonsense. It's a means to an end, and we may need more. Don't worry Dobbs I assure you this will not bankrupt me, my fortune is more extensive than you can possibly imagine."_

"_Beg pardon my lord, I did not mean to imply . . ."_ The Butler trails off.

"_Get on with it man. There is not a moment to lose, and Dobbs, send a message to my cousin Alastair. Tell him I request his presence immediately."_

The Butler nods. _"Very good my lord, at once."_

Bastian sits down behind his desk to wait for Alex, hopefully his cousin can be pressed into service to help, maybe Alex will think of something else to do that he has not. His stomach is knotted tight with fear, fear that can only be dispersed by one thing, Therese, safe in his arms.

The wait for Alex seems endless, although in matter of fact his cousin arrives very quickly, and taking one look at his cousins' face he understands the urgency of the summons.

"_I came as quickly as I could Bastian; your groom said it was most important there be no delay."_

"_I appreciate that Alex. I need your help, I am unsure of where to begin but if I tell you that Therese and I were discovered by Alathea and her guests last night, in shall we say, a compromising embrace, that is the beginning."_ Bastian begins.

Alastair nods. _"Unfortunate. I take it then that you convinced her to accept your offer?"_

Bastian shakes his head. _"I was still working on that. But there has been a development. I could not see her reputation ruined and Alathea was incensed; so incensed that her anger, her tirade of abuse of Therese's character made something plain to me. I do not wish to take Therese as I my mistress, I . . ."_

"_I should think not after that."_ Alex interrupts.

"_I intend to marry her Alex."_

His cousin stares at him speechless. _"Marry her? You cannot be serious!"_

Bastian struggles to remain calm, he is completely through with his family telling him what he can and cannot do. It's clearly about time they all remembered who is head of the family, who holds all the money and all the power here, and who intends to use both.

"_I beg your pardon Alastair."_ He says menacingly, his using his cousin's full name intentionally. _"As I have already told Alathea, I do not need, nor do I require anyone's blessing or consent to take any bride of MY choosing. And you should believe me when I tell you that I have chosen, and that my choice is irrevocable. I will marry the woman I love Alex; I will marry Therese or I will marry no-one."_

Alex protests. _"But you have a duty."_

"_One I can only fulfill with Therese as my wife. She has disappeared Alex, she is gone, and I need your assistance to find her."_ Bastian pleads.

"_You offered to marry her?"_ Alex asks.

Bastian nods miserably. _"I did. She refused and this morning she was gone."_

"_Why would she refuse an offer that would make her rich, titled - a Countess, that's a match she could never dream of?"_ Alex looks at Bastian questioningly.

"_Because she loves me. She loves me Alex; I know this with a certainty that is impossible to explain. I can only think she doubts my love, thinks I am only trying to be honorable, that she cannot permit me to lower myself with such a match."_

Alex thinks about this. _"You think she's trying to protect you."_

Bastian nods. _"Me and possibly herself; if she isn't sure my love for her is real, then it's her heart she's protecting. I think both things could be true. So will you help me Alex? Will you stand beside me, support me in this?" _

Alex looks at his cousin. The man before him is changed from the one he has known, sincerity and certainty ring true in every word he says, and Bastian is as a brother to him. If Bastian is truly in love, if Therese is what he wants, then there is only one course. Alex holds out his hand. _"Of course I will Bastian, tell me what you are doing to find her?"_


	19. Chapter 19

For Jen.

Chapter Eighteen: Pulling the plug.

Washington, D.C

Dec 2010

Once you make a life altering decision, then think about it some more, decide you still favor the decision you've made, then there really is no putting off the inevitable. This is where Booth is at. Following his summons to the Jeffersonian a couple of days ago, and the promise extracted from him - that he will begin to put right the mess he's made, he's been pondering how best to go about doing what needs to be done. Namely breaking up with Hannah Burley, and moving her out of his apartment. Only when he can truly, honestly say that his relationship with Hannah is over, can he get his ass on a plane to England and try to fix things with Brennan.

On one hand, any delay in the latter part of this plan is killing him, on the other, he made his bed with Hannah, and therefore he has to stop lying in it first.

He knows there is no easy way to do it, and that the blame for this mess lies squarely on his shoulders. After Angela and Cam had staged their little 'intervention', Angela had gone off happily; promising not to breathe a word to Brennan, but to let Booth make things right in his own time, but Cam had stopped him from leaving.

"_One moment Seeley."_ She said, closing her office door behind Angela.

"_Yes Camille."_ Booth rejoined, with a look that said 'what now?'

"_I just want you to know that I always hoped you'd figure this out by yourself, I want to understand how you of all people could let things get this far Booth. I know it must have hurt, Brennan rejecting you that night, but how could you give up on her so easily?"_

Booth lets out a long, frustrated sigh. _"You want an honest answer Cam, honestly I don't know if I have words that could convey how much she hurt me that night. And I don't mean that as an excuse because you're absolutely right. I should have fought for her, every excuse she gave me I could easily have shot down, and if she still wouldn't listen then I should have told her I wasn't going anywhere and when she was ready to see that I'd still be waiting. I know I failed her, I know that. But you have to believe me when I tell you that I've never loved like this before, this deeply, this completely, and when she didn't want to try, something in me broke. That's the best explanation I have Cam."_

Cam can see the emotions swirling in her friends' warm, dark eyes, eyes that truly are windows to the soul of a thoroughly decent man. _"And Hannah?"_

"_It was just supposed to be a fling Cam. That's how it began. I was hurting, missing Bones, and Hannah was there. She pursued me, she made me feel wanted, desired. I needed to be wanted I guess, and it just grew from there. I didn't intend to bring it here, for it to impact on this life, or on Bones. But I let it."_ The remorse on his face makes his words un-doubtable.

Cam smiles at the irony that this intuitive man apparently didn't see. _"The person in this world who wants you the most Booth is Brennan. You're her link to the rest of us; you're the one she trusts to see her for who she actually is, rather than the sometimes cold, detached person she can appear to be. Don't you understand that it could only have been fear of somehow losing you that would ever cause Brennan to pull back?"_

Booth smiles. _"You really like her don't you?"_

Cam nods, smiling also. _"I really do. She's unique, and she's difficult; but she's also brilliant, compassionate, honorable and fearless, except when it comes to her heart. I've never met anyone like her and though you two should not be perfect for each other, you undeniably are. You make each other better Booth, both professionally and personally, and those of us around you, we all see it. I think if we were all honest, we've all been a little envious at times of this bond that binds you two together. But it's really a privilege to watch it Booth, it's a rare thing and it should be protected. That's why Angela and I had to interfere; neither of us could stand to think of it breaking. So don't be mad okay."_

Booth closes the space between them and pulls Cam into a hug. Squeezing her tightly he says softly, _"I'm glad I can always count on you to kick me in the shins when I need it Camille. I'm grateful, not mad, I promise."_

Cam laughs softly. Pulling back from him she schools her expression until it's more somber. _"So, what now big guy? Brennan is hiding out in England, I got an e-mail from her saying she isn't coming home before Christmas, and I'm willing to bet she hasn't told you."_

Shocked, Booth shakes his head. _"Last time we spoke she wasn't sure when she would be back, but I definitely didn't expect her to be away so long. Though I guess I should have, she's funny about the holidays. I will fix this Cam, starting with Hannah; but I have to find the best way to do this, she's done nothing wrong and I'm about to make a train wreck of her life. I won't drag it out, I don't want to cause either Bones or Hannah any more pain, but I'm going to need some time to figure out the best way."_

Cam rolls her eyes. _"Honesty Seeley, there is no way to sugar coat this, but the pucks in your zone, you handle it from here."_

Booth groans. _"Enough with the hockey metaphors already. Thanks Cam."_

Two days later Cam's advice that he just has to sit Hannah down and give it to her straight has become his plan. He's asked her to meet him for drinks after work; he figures somewhere neutral will be best. If he does it in the privacy of their home, then one of them is going to end up packing and leaving, he's already got an overnight bag in the trunk of his SUV, it's better if he tells her and then let's her be the one to go home. So when Hannah appears in his office in the middle of the day, he's surprised to see her.

She smiles tightly and indicating the seat in front of his desk she asks, _"Do you mind?"_

Booth shakes his head. _"What brings you here?"_

Hannah takes a deep breath, goes to begin speaking and then stops, her eyes stopping on a picture frame beside Booth's computer. She picks it up and turns it around to face her, and what she sees in the frame seems to harden her features.

"_This is what brings me here Seeley . . ."_ She points at the picture.

Booth doesn't have to look at it to know what she's getting at, it's a framed photo of he and Brennan, sitting on 'their' bench by 'their' coffee cart next to the reflecting pool on the Mall. It was taken a year or so before he left for Afghanistan, the coffee cart guy – a huge fan of Brennan's books, took it. In the photo he and Brennan are looking at each other, both of them holding cups of coffee, they are smiling into each others eyes as if they are the only two people in the world. He loves this picture, they look so happy in it, they look like they are 'together' in it, and he suddenly realizes that's because they are, they always have been. Only the physical part has been missing, their relationship has always had everything else, including love and commitment. He's such a fool.

Looking back from the picture to Hannah, the look in her eyes tells him she already knows they are about to have 'the talk', so he says simply. _"You know, don't you?"_

Hannah nods unhappily, she doesn't pretend not to understand. _"That you're in love with her, yeah, I know. I think I've known all along. When we met, I couldn't believe a man like you was single, and when you told me your partner, your best friend was a woman I did wonder if that was the reason. But you kept saying you were only friends and I wanted to believe you so I told myself I was imagining things and I followed you to D.C. And then I met her. And honestly at first I was relieved, she seemed so . . . I don't know, socially clueless I guess. She's so 'removed' so 'rational' she doesn't come across as warm at all, and I couldn't see you wanting someone like that. But something in the way you look at each other, sometimes you finish each other's thoughts when you speak, I guess the journalist in me knew there was more to the story with you guys, and so I started to dig a little further. Shall I tell you what I found?_

Booth doesn't answer immediately, going back over his relationship with Hannah he can't think of a single instance since they've been together where he overtly displayed the reality of his feelings for Brennan. He's put Hannah first all the time, trying so hard to just enjoy being with her, enjoy the simplicity of their relationship, that he can't imagine what she could have seen that clued her in; but fascinated he needs to know. He nods.

"_I started by searching through all the media records and the court records since the two of you have been partnered, you've worked so many high profile cases that there was a lot of material to sift through. I learned you've both had to shoot-to-kill, in order to save your partner's life, which in and of itself isn't unusual except for the fact that Temperance is a civilian. Life or death situations seem to be a bit of a habit however, you Seeley have been blown up while on protection detail for her, kidnapped – twice – both times Temperance was the one who brought you back. She was kidnapped – twice – you did the same thing. She get's arrested on suspicion of murder; you fly to New Orleans and get her off. You take a bullet for her that almost kills you when your stalker targets her as the rival she must eliminate; a stalker that Temperance then kills. You're suspended with pay on suspicion of murder, and she solves the case to ensure you're exonerated. I suppose it could be explained that this is all just the results of 'partnership' but then there are her books, and she can claim that 'Kathy' and 'Andy' aren't based on the two of you all she likes, but her love for you is all over those books. She's different with you than she is with everyone else Seeley, the way she looks at you like you're all that matters in the world. And you, it's in the way you watch over her, like you might need to take another bullet for her any moment and you need to be ready. I didn't want to see it, but as soon as I really looked it was ALL I saw. And this uncharacteristic vacation of hers, it's because of you and me isn't it?"_

Booth nods again. _"Yeah I think it is. I'm so sorry Hannah."_

Hannah takes a deep breath. _"I just don't understand why you got involved with me Seeley; it's pretty clear now that you were never really free to be involved with someone else."_

It's a fair question he thinks. But how to explain to her what he can barely explain to himself? Still he has to try, she deserves that much at the very least.

"_I never wanted to go to Afghanistan."_ He begins. _"I agreed to the Army's request and planned to leave D.C behind for a year, only because Bones had decided she needed some time away. We'd had a stressful few months pretending to carry on as normal after one night I asked her to give us a shot at a relationship that was more than our partnership. I told her that night that I'd known from the moment we met that we were supposed to be together and Bones got scared, and she turned me down."_

"_So she knows you love her."_ Hannah says.

Booth shrugs. _"I don't think she does. I never actually said the words, but that is what I was trying to say, and when she didn't want to try, after five years of partnership and everything that we'd been through, her refusal that night, it broke something in me. And I made the biggest mistake of my life when I let that night end with her refusal, and then let it fester. I know her better than anyone in the world, and instead of seeing her fear, and helping her get past it, all I saw was that she'd said 'No'. I let her down Hannah. Bones has all these reasons she doesn't believe in love, and yet over the course of our partnership she gradually started to get past them. She began to let people into her life, she opened up and she allowed herself to care, to be vulnerable. Because of me, because of our relationship; so I should have stood my ground that night and held on through her fear, proved to her that what I told her was true. Instead I ran when she ran, and I told myself I could move on."_

"_So that's what this is, isn't it?"_ Hannah asks him, pointing back and forth between them. _"Your attempt to move on."_

Booth can see the unshed tears swimming in her eyes; can see the hurt, the emotional damage he's inflicted. He wants to tell her no, that there was more to their relationship than him attempting to prove to Brennan and to himself that if she didn't want him someone else would. But he cares for her a great deal, she's been so good to him, she deserves nothing less than the whole painful truth, she's owed that.

"_Yeah."_ He replies, watching the moisture in her eyes suddenly overflow, a single tear slipping down each cheek. The lump in his own throat feels like it's choking him. _"I'm so sorry."_ He says, knowing it's woefully inadequate.

Hannah wipes at her face angrily, obviously she does not want him to see her cry.

"_Me too Seeley. There really is nothing else to say is there? I can't fight for you; you are so wholly hers that there was never really any part of you that was mine."_

She's right, he can't deny it. He can't soften it, because even though Bones isn't here to hear it, he's determined to live the truth now, the truth he's going to prove to Brennan over and over for the remainder of his life.

"_I will regret hurting you for the rest of my life." _He tells Hannah_. "That's the truth. But you're right; I've loved her since the moment we met and I'll love only her until the day I die."_ No one hearing him could doubt the sincerity ringing out in every word.

Hannah smiles at him unexpectedly, she stands to leave. _"Give me a couple of days to clear the apartment, and when you see Temperance, tell her I wish you both happy."_

Booth watches her leave, knowing she let him off far easier than he deserved.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Nineteen: Reunions and Declarations.

Dumfries, Scotland

July, 1816

It has been a long, long journey for Therese to reach Scotland, and every mile that carried her further from Bastian broke her heart that little bit more, all two hundred and eighty five of them.

Fleeing Gloucester House in the middle of the night four weeks ago, Therese had no other plan in her head than to disappear as quickly and efficiently as she could manage using the limited resources available to her. Her economy with her earnings has been a God-send, enabling her to travel by stagecoach for a significant portion, but knowing that Bastian was sure to mount a search for her she knew she had to have some point where her trail would end, a point before her final destination.

At the outset of her flight she had no real notion of where that final destination would be, she planned to get as far as Carlisle close the Scottish border first, and a friend from her school days who might be willing to help her. It had taken her six days to get there, and having had no way to notify her friend of her impending arrival, Therese could only hope for a warm welcome.

In the end, Penelope Tregarth had been delighted to see her, and had immediately offered her sanctuary, asking her to remain with her and her husband for as long as she needed. Seeing that her old friend was clearly distressed, and knowing that she had only somewhat recently taken up a new position, Penny had been firm with her about how genuine her desire for Therese to stay with them was. Therese had declined to stay more than a few days, knowing that from London to Carlisle Bastian would have no problem tracing her movements. Not that the stagecoach companies required her name, just payment for their services, but her description along with the financial resources Bastian could use would certainly serve to provide him with places to look. And Therese was not prepared to let him find her; she knew she would never have the strength to walk away from him twice.

Her first night at Penny's she had confided to her old friend the reason for her departure from the south. Penny had been sympathetic, Therese would not be the first governess forced to leave a position because she had attracted the attention of the male head of the household, but Penny was mystified by Therese's refusal of Bastian's offer of marriage.

"_But Therese, you confess that you love him, and he's asked you to marry him. He is a highly eligible bachelor, an Earl for God's sake, I can understand your refusal of his illicit offer, but marriage . . . my dear you would have every comfort, every luxury imaginable. Why in heavens name would you refuse him?"_

Therese had tried to explain, but Penny's own marriage, while comfortable and respectable had not been a romantic decision for either party. Penny's father, a clergyman had know Peter – Penny's husband since he was a choir boy. Peter was ten years Penny's senior, an ex-guardsman who had fought the French and been pensioned home after injury a year before Waterloo. Once home he had sort the comfort of the church and Penny's father had thought he would make a suitable match for her, and Penny finding nothing to dislike in her prospective husband had agreed. A school teacher, twenty-seven and unmarried she knew her options were somewhat limited, she had no great beauty but a kind and open manner, Peter needed someone to look after him and so they were wed.

When Peter had been offered a well-paid position with a mill in Carlisle, they had moved north.

It was a suitable match, they were comfortable and content, and their union worked for them, but Therese could not imagine such a marriage herself; hers was a far more passionate and sensual nature. Where Penny could only see the eligibility and comfort of marrying Bastian, Therese saw only heartbreak when he inevitably took a mistress on the side.

"_I cannot accept him Penny; please leave it at that . . . he should marry from his own class and that is that."_

Penny had frowned, but let the subject of Therese's refusal pass.

"_You believe he will look for you though?" _She asked.

Therese had nodded sadly, if she knew Bastian at all, she knew he would never give up easily.

"_He WILL try to find me; I know it for a certainty. That is why I cannot stay here long Penny, with the Earldom's vast resources it won't take him long to trace me as far as Carlisle. I intend to go to Scotland; the last letter I received from Robert was post-marked from Dumfries. It has been a very long time, and if he has not changed his ways he could be anywhere, but Dumfries is a long way from London and from Berkley, it is as good a place as any for me to start over. If you can think of someway for me to reach there undetected, I am very open to suggestions."_

At this Penny smiled broadly.

"_Oh I have the very best news for you Therese. Not only is Robert still in Dumfries but he is married with a young family."_

Therese looked at her friend in astonishment. How would Penny know this, and could it be possible that her brother has really turned his life around?

"_How? Penny how do you know this?"_

Penny laughs, the sound echoes enchantingly.

"_It is the oddest coincidence really; you turning up here like this. A few months back Peter had to travel to Dumfries on business, the company he works for has mills there also. He asked me to accompany him as he would be gone for more than a week, and the inn that we stayed in is run by your brother. I recognized him at once, and knowing the reasons for your estrangement I was reluctant to give him any news of you. I only told him you were well, and working as a governess."_

"_He is well then?" _Therese asks.

Penny nods_. "He is very well indeed. He told me that he had wronged you terribly and that the loss of any relationship with his sister was the biggest regret of his life. His business seems to be doing just fine; the inn is small but profitable. I met his wife and his two daughters, I think you would find nothing to reprove in his behavior now, he seems very settled and most respectable. Therese, if you are willing to forgive him for the past, Robert will be falling over himself to make it up to you. We must send word to him and get you to Dumfries without delay."_

Therese smiles for what feels like the first time in ages. _"Penny this is wonderful news, but how best to get me there? I cannot risk taking the stage any further; Bastian must reach a dead-end here in Carlisle. If I borrow a horse and ride, it must be from someone who will not tell, even if offered money."_

Penny snorts. _"Easy silly, Peter and I have use of a curricle and I know how to drive one, I shall take you to Scotland myself my dear Therese, and I shall see you safely reunited with Robert. My dear he will be so, so happy to see you."_

And he was. Therese wrote him a short note which they mailed on the morrow, knowing it would take at least two days to reach him, Therese remained with Penny until then, and then they set out for Dumfries, at twenty nine miles, the journey would take them all day.

Robert was waiting for them impatiently when they arrived. He looked much older to Therese than his thirty two years, his hair thinning and lines etched into his still attractive face, the years of excesses had clearly taken their toll. Swinging her down from the curricle and into his arms, Robert had swung her around just as he did when she was a child, and only placed her feet on the ground to engulf her in a fierce embrace.

"_Sister, my dearest sister; oh Therese, can you ever forgive me?"_ Therese looked up into Robert's face to see tears swimming in the blue eyes so like her own. Suddenly all that mattered was that in the midst of her heartbreak, a piece of her family had been offered back to her to ease the pain, and she was profoundly grateful for it. Unable to speak for the knot of emotions stuck in her throat, she managed to smile and nod as her own tears escaped and slipped down her cheeks. She clung to her brother as he hugged her again, and then steered her inside the inn.

Robert's home was comfortable and welcoming, the inn comprising of only eight guest rooms and the pub room. Amelia, Roberts' wife was a dainty, dark-haired, dark-eyed woman of twenty-six, his daughter's – Therese and Christiana were six and four. Therese stared at her namesake in amazement, the image of her mother she nevertheless had her father's vivid blue eyes, eyes just like the aunt she had been named for. Christiana was the sweetest poppet imaginable. A dark-eyed lithe little sprite, fun and mischief sparkled in her face, named for her paternal grandmother; Therese knew her parents would have adored Robert's little girls.

Smiling at her brother over dinner that evening, Therese was amazed and gratified to see her brother had really turned his life around. After seven years of marriage to a good woman, his life was full and productive, and Robert gave full credit to Amelia for the transformation.

"_I wanted to start over, that is why I came so far away from London, and I wanted to leave that old life, those old habits behind me. It was harder than I thought it would be. I had numerous jobs, and could not seem to settle to any one thing, then after a couple of years here and really struggling, I met Amelia in the inn. It was run by her parents and my wife tells me she fell in love at first sight."_ Robert grins at his wife, who only nods at him.

"_She straightened me out. Eight years later I can tell you honestly Therese that I do not know what would have become of me without her. And now, to have you back . . . my dearest sister, my life is complete."_

Penny stayed at the inn overnight, before returning to Carlisle with Therese's grateful thanks. Therese found herself welcomed with open arms by her nieces and her sister-in-law, and with a safe roof over her head, loving family and in a place where Bastian would have no reason to look for her, she began to steel herself to begin her life over again as if she had never met him.

As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, what should have gotten easier seemed to get ever harder with time. Refusing to fade, the pain of separation from Bastian grew only stronger by the day and Therese began to wonder if she would ever be happy again.

For Bastian things were going no better.

In the days following Therese's disappearance he had felt nothing but complete confidence in his ability to find her; and in truth his search had at first gone well.

A legion of staff, plus Bastian and Alastair had been put to work. It had not taken them long to find her first destination, or her second, or her third. She had left London on the first stage to Oxford the morning she fled, from there to Banbury, onto Northampton, Leicester, Nottingham, Sheffield, Manchester to Preston, then Lancaster, and finally to Carlisle. There the trail ended, and though he has spent months looking, June became July, July became August and by the time September rolled around and Carlisle had been searched almost street by street, Bastian was losing hope daily.

Word of his search and of his obsession with Therese, had by now of course spread through the haute-ton, and his peers had begun to think he'd run mad. Alathea had at first been very quiet, worried that Bastian's rage would cost her dearly, she'd not said a word out of place, but as time wore on and her confidence returned she could be heard on any given day questioning her step-sons wits and his sanity. Naturally she was careful to make sure her malicious gossip was only repeated in female circles, but with his own family questioning his actions, finally of course matters came to a head.

At an embassy ball of all places.

Bastian had already told Alex that he would search for as long as was necessary in order to find Therese. But with their efforts turning up no clues as to her whereabouts, and lawyers retained in every major town in the country on the look out, Alex himself was growing concerned about how long Bastian would continue this way. Every time Alex voiced his concerns, Bastian would grow very still, and in a deceptively soft manner would re-inform his cousin that he had no intention of giving up. That his mind was inflexible on the subject, and he would continue looking, it didn't matter how long.

At the embassy ball, Sebastian Berkley finally made that declaration to every person of note in his social world.

He had not even wanted to go, but as a member of the House of Lords, certain diplomatic functions were a necessary duty and even in his despair Bastian could not bring himself to shirk them. The ball had been boring and predictable, even though he rarely smiled at all these days, Bastian was still rich, titled, eligible and handsome as sin, marriage minded young ladies still hounded him at events like these and when one of them decided to entrap him that night, trying to force a scandal that would have required he propose to her, something in Bastian finally snapped.

The young lady in question had given her chaperone the slip, and followed Bastian out onto the terrace outside the ballroom, when he retreated for some air and a quiet moment to think. Staring out into the night, Bastian had looked heavenwards at the stars and wondered for the hundredth time that day where Therese could possibly be. Fear for her was an ever present knot in his stomach, to not know for certain that she was safe, that she was well, cared for, it ate at him every moment. And so wrapped up was he in these thoughts that he did not hear the young lady's approach. When she stepped close and wrapped her arms around him, for one fleeting moment he thought Therese had returned, and spinning around her had reached out for her only to discover a young woman he did not know instead. Pulling back, he said, _"I beg your pardon, you must be mistaking me for someone else. Excuse me."_

But the young woman smiled at him and refused to unwrap her arms from around his torso. Knowing that if someone was to exit the ballroom and find them apparently in each others arms a scandal would ensue; Bastian was forced to pull very roughly away, horror and revulsion on his face.

"_I don't know what game you think you are playing young lady."_ He said angrily. _"But apparently I should clarify certain matters with regards to my affections, and I shall do it right now."_

Bastian strode from the terrace back to the ballroom, the look on his face enough to clear a path through the crowded room to the podium for the ambassador at one end. Mounting the five steps he turned to face the milling throng of people, aware even over the music that whispers were circulating the crowd. Looking at the musicians to his side he made a sign for them to kill the music, and as a hush descended across the room he waited until every eye was on him before he began to speak.

"_Ladies and Gentlemen, I ask you to excuse me for the interruption, but I have something to say. I am sure by now that you are all aware that earlier this year, I broke with tradition and asked a young woman, a governess in my employ to become my wife. Her name is Therese Brandon, and either in an effort to protect me, or not believing my love for her would last, Therese refused my offer, and fled London. I am in search of her. I know the whispers making the rounds, that I have lost my mind, I tell you this is in no way the case, my mind is completely sound, the only thing I have lost is my heart. To those of you expecting this situation to change, those of you thinking I might be persuaded to take another bride, know this . . . that if I cannot find her I will die alone. I will not marry another, I will not father an heir, and upon my death my estates and my title will pass to whichever of my cousins is still alive and next in line at that time. I trust I can count on you all to make sure that word of my decision gets out, tell whomever you choose, if word reaches Therese, it might help bring her back to me. My sincere thanks to you all."_

And Sebastian Berkley turned in his heel, head held high, and left. As he exited the ballroom, pandemonium broke out behind him.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty: To speak your fears aloud.

Berkley Castle, England

Dec 2010

It's over afternoon tea which she is once again having with Richard, that Brennan unexpectedly confides everything that has been bottled up inside her the last few months. Normally she is such a private person, and so guarded with her emotions, so used to hiding them beneath her overly rational, detached persona that it's only to those closest to her that she ever opens up.

She had not intended to spill her guts to Richard Berkley, but she doesn't really 'talk' to Booth anymore and certainly not on this subject, and she knows if she tells Angela, her friend will only end up hurting for her – so not wanting to see pity in her friends eyes she's shared nothing of the emotional devastation Hannah's existence has wrought on her. With Richard however there is a safety net, he's a world apart from her normal life, knows none of the players in the drama – well except for her, and as a man dealing with a broken heart can relate personally to her plight.

His kindness and his gentle, generous nature have bonded the two of them and so when he asks her more about her fascination with the love story of his ancestors, suddenly and somewhat cathartically it just all comes out.

Pouring her a second cup of tea, Richard also refills his own cup and as he relaxes back in his chair her inquires conversationally, _"So you must tell me Temperance, apart from your physical resemblance to Therese, what is it about her and Sebastian that calls to you so?"_

Booth. She answers in her head, immediately. Then knowing that her answer would be without context for Richard she re-thinks and then speaks.

"_You've read my books haven't you Richard?"_

The Earl inclines his head, a genuine smile of sincere fondness on his face. _"Every one. I told you already that I'm a very big fan, I wasn't offering Spanish coin my dear, I really do love them."_

Brennan smiles back at him. _"Thank you. I don't suppose you've ever read the dedication at the start of my second, and also my third novel?"_

The Earl answers immediately. _"To my partner and friend, Special Agent Seeley Booth."_

Brennan nods. _"Exactly. Booth has been my partner for the last six years. He's the one I depend on, my rock I suppose, the one person who's always been there, the one who explains pop culture and takes bullets intended for me. The one who solves my parents disappearance, brings me food late at night, makes Christmas special again."_ She trails off.

Richard is quick to pick up her meaning. _"He's your best friend."_

Oh he's so much more than that she thinks. _"Yes. And while I look like Therese, exactly like her, Booth is the living image of Sebastian."_

Richard's eyes flare in surprise. _"Sebastian! Agent Booth is Bastian's double while his partner is Therese's? Now that really is fascinating, Temperance. Tell me, what did Agent Booth say when you told him?"_

Her heartbreak visible in her face, Brennan replies. _"I haven't told him. He doesn't know about them."_

The Earl looks puzzled. _"Why would you not share such a unique discovery with your partner? I don't understand my dear."_

And it's here, right here, that the Hoover dam inside her breaks, her feelings spilling out in a jumble of words that need to be spoken aloud; voiced, born into reality instead of shut away, festering inside her.

"_Because Sebastian and Therese were in love; they lived entirely for each other and each other only, and a year or so ago the same could almost have been said about Booth and I, even though we have never been lovers. Then Booth asked me to be more than his partner, he told me he'd always known that we were destined to spend our lives together and fool that I am, I refused him. I allowed fears that I'd end up losing him if our relationship turned romantic, to get the better of me. I told him no; and I should have said yes. Now he's moved on and our partnership isn't the same and he's in love with someone else, he's living with someone else, and when I can't stand to watch it anymore I'm going to lose him anyway. It's my fault . . . but . . ."_

Richard leans forward in his chair; one hand reaches across the table and grasps hers. His eyes are kind, empathy for her distress shining bright. _"But what?"_ he asks gently.

Brennan takes a deep breath before she continues in unsteady tones. _"Booth gave up on me. And Booth never gives up. He really didn't fight me on my refusal at all, and he should have. Because he's the one who believes in love, believes it can last a lifetime, and tells me there is someone I'm meant to spend the rest of my life with. If he really believed that person was him, then why didn't he try harder to prove it to me? I messed up, I know I did, but so did he. Sebastian never quit on Therese, not once, even when she left him he had faith in their love; I guess I'm so drawn to them, because they had the happy ending I'm still waiting for. Theirs was the ending I need to believe in."_

The Earl smiles at her softly. _"Your ending isn't written yet Temperance. You should tell Agent Booth all of this. If he knew you'd changed your mind, maybe that's all the information he would need to give you want you want."_

Brennan shakes her head, eyes shining with unshed tears. _"He's in love with someone else, and he's happy. I won't make a mess of that, I can't."_

Richard's grip on her hand tightens. _"Because you love him."_

She nods. _"I need him to be happy; but I still want him to choose me. And I think most of all I want him to choose me by himself, because he realizes I'm the one. Because if he really has always known that, then in the end there would be no other choice he could make. Is that foolish?"_

Richard shakes his head. _"No my dear girl, that's not foolish at all." _Giving her hand one final squeeze he releases it and sits back. _"Let Bastian and Therese give you hope Temperance. I've always believed that if their story said anything, it spoke of not just love, but of having faith in love, even in the face of adversity, when everything, everyone around you would tell you otherwise. Right now you're finding that faith hard to come by, so borrow some of Sebastian's and continue to believe that Agent Booth will find his way."_

Brennan finds a smile. _"It's not rational, but I really do want to believe that."_

Richard laughs. _"Dear girl, don't you know there is nothing rational about love!"_

In her head she hears something Avalon Harmonia once told her. 'My cards tell me only your top layer is rational, underneath your as nutty as I am!' Her smile widens.

"_I believe I have heard that Richard, and thank you."_

"_For what?"_ He asks, looking puzzled.

She shrugs. _"For listening, for reassuring. I didn't realize how much I needed to talk about it, to let it out. I'm not good with feelings."_

The Earl shakes his head. _"Your books belie that Temperance. There is plenty of emotion in your writing, and it's both beautifully written and articulately expressed. In your work, with what you do, you're used to distancing yourself from your emotions so as not to cloud your judgment. I imagine it's hard to turn that on and off. It's not that you're not good with feelings, you've just learned to tune them out, to act as if they were almost irrelevant I mean."_

It sounds like something Booth would tell her, and it helps.

"_Do you still believe Richard? In love."_ She asks, suddenly curious.

He looks thoughtful for a moment, and then he says simply. _"I do. Despite my personal experience, I have always been surrounded by it. My parents, my grandparents, my sisters' and of course Bastian and Therese too, I've found that though I may doubt, I never really lose faith in its power." _ He pins her with his gaze, pure and sincere. _"And neither should you."_

From your lips to Booth's ears she thinks as she takes a sip of tea, sitting in companionable silence with her newest friend.

Washington, D.C

Dec 2010

Back in the states it's time for Booth to return home. He's given Hannah three full 'Booth-free' days to remove her things from the apartment, and now that he's finally gone back there the place looks once more as if she never was. Looks can be deceiving, and the fall-out from his relationship with Hannah has yet to be addressed. Following their break-up, he's tried a couple of times to call Brennan, but just as the call is about to go through he finds himself hanging up. Frustrated. He can't do this over the phone he thinks, he can't put this right, or tell her he still loves her – that he never, ever stopped – or ask her to forgive him for not fighting harder, if he can't look into her beautiful face while he tells her. She needs to see the love in eyes again, to see him bare his soul to her, no pretenses, no distance. She needs to be in his arms while he begs for another chance, and tells her that no matter her answer he'll wait. That he has no choice but to wait. That he'd wait forever, because to him she's worth it.

So this means he needs to book himself on a flight to England, after he arranges to get some time off – not an easy task with the holidays rapidly approaching and no real holiday days left to him. Plus the flights right now are in his mind stupid expensive, again due to the upcoming holidays, and not that it matters, he doesn't honestly care how much money this costs him, but he still has to finance it. Plus a car rental and a hotel stay, and explain to Parker that he'll try to be home for Christmas but that right now he has to put Bones first.

He starts with that. Picking Parker up from Rebecca's for the weekend, he confesses to her that he and Hannah have gone their separate ways. Rebecca doesn't seem the least surprised.

"_Took her long enough to figure it out though."_ She comments

"_Figure what out Bec?" _He asks.

Rebecca smiles at him like he's a simpleton or something. _"That you'd never be hers Seeley, because your heart belongs to Temperance. How is Temperance taking this by the way?"_

He sighs. _"She's in England, she doesn't know yet. And I need to talk to you about that actually."_

"_About Temperance being in England?"_ Rebecca looks confused.

"_About me needing to go to England, as soon as I can arrange it, to beg her if necessary to forgive me. I screwed up Bec, and now I have to fix it. I'm there as soon as I can go, but I don't know how long I'm going to be gone, and if I can't make it back for Christmas then I can't have Parker. I don't want to miss another Christmas with him, but I have to put Bones first right now. I have too." _Deep brown eyes full of worry plead for understanding.

Rebecca smiles. _"Do what you have to do. Parker will understand if you tell him why you're going – kid adores her you know."_

An easy grin lights Booth's face. _"I always said like father, like son. I'll tell him tonight."_

So over pizza and milkshakes with French fries on the side, Booth tells Parker his plan.

"_We need to talk bub about Hannah and about Bones."_

Parker grimaces. _"I didn't say anything."_ He says defiantly.

Confused Booth says. _"Say anything about what Parker?"_

"_I swear I only told Mom I didn't really like you dating Hannah. I tried my best to be nice to her, honestly I did."_

Startled Booth replies. _"You didn't like Hannah?"_

Parker shakes his head. _"It's not that she's not nice, and she's very pretty Dad, but I don't want you to marry her. I don't think Bones would like it if you did that."_

Biting back a smile Booth asks. _"What makes you think that?"_

"_Duh. Dad Bones really likes you. It's obvious. And you really like her. If you want to marry someone you should just marry her. I wouldn't mind that at all. Bones is cool."_

Booth laughs_. "Yeah she is that. Well I guess if I tell you that I broke up with Hannah because I realized that I love Bones . . . that would make you happy."_

The smile on his son's face tells him everything. _"Are you kidding? That's awesome."_ Parker replies.

Sobering Booth says. _"There's just one problem bub. I asked Bones to be my girlfriend a pretty long time ago now, and when I did she said no. I think it was because she was scared that we might end up breaking up and then we couldn't be friends anymore. And she really needs us to be friends. So I started to date Hannah and now I think Bones is unhappy about that. Bones is in England and she won't come home Parker, so I have to go to England to tell her I'm not with Hannah now. I have to tell her I love her and that she doesn't have to be scared about it, and I can't do that on the phone. Do you understand?"_

His son nods. _"When are you leaving?"_

"_As soon as I can arrange the flight and get permission from the FBI to be away from work. I'm hoping to leave in a few days, but the problem is that I have to stay long enough to convince her. I can't leave unless she comes home with me, and though I want to be with you for Christmas, that might not be possible."_

Parker looks thoughtful, then smiling hugely he says, _"I'll miss you if you're not here Dad, but if it means that you and Bones will be together then that's a really great Christmas present isn't it?"_

Booth tousles his son's hair affectionately. Stealing a fry from Parker's plate he answers him. _"If she'll be mine Parker, that's the best present of any kind – ever."_


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty One: Robert & Sebastian

Pedler's Inn, Dumfries, Scotland

November 1816

_"How is she?" _Robert asks his wife, his blue eyes clouded with anxiety and concern.

Amelia sighs. Wringing out another linen cloth, she places it upon Therese's burning forehead, squeezing her hand briefly before she gets up from the chair adjacent to the bed and ushers her husband from the room.

_"Well?" _Robert asks again, impatiently.

_"She's no better Robert, but she's also no worse.." _That's something, Amelia thinks. Then seeing the raw anguish in his eyes has not faded, she adds, _"She's strong Robert, she's going to be fine . . . I'm sure of it."_

Roberts eyes dart towards the door of Therese's bedchamber. He shakes his head. _"She's unhappy." _He says. _"I did not see it when she first came to us, I was simply too delighted to have her back in my life, and it had been so many years since I'd seen her. She was really still a girl when I abandoned my responsibility towards her, and she's a grown woman now, forced to be independant, to provide for herself. When she told us she'd come north in search of me, that she had heard from her friend that I'd married and that she had more family - I accepted that explanation at face value. But since she's been here, it's become increasingly obvious to me that I am not the real reason she left the south."_

Amelia's eyes narrow. _"What do you mean?" _she asks him. _ "And what does her being unhappy have to do with her illness? I know the rash looks very severe, and her fever hasn't broken in four days, but the doctor says most people he's seen with this disease get better. The children should remain with my mother anyway, but half the children at her school have been ill, and many of their parents."_

Robert looks grim. _"Two children have died and one mother also."_

Silence reigns. Then Amelia says,_ "But what of her unhappiness Robert . . . she seems happy to me."_

_"She isn't." _Robert replies. _"Something is wrong. There is a real reason, a true reason that she came here. She tries very hard to hide it, but I've seen her looking out her window, her face wet with tears. I've seen her writing in her journals crying too. She holds herself stiffly, as if she's in pain almost. I do not know what or who has caused her sadness, but I see it Amelia, I feel it in her. And now she's so sick . . . she needs all of her strength to recover from this, and I don't know that she has the will. I see her will to live dim daily . . . I truly fear for her, and I feel so helpless. I only just got her back, I can not stand to lose her again."_

Amelia reaches up to plant a soft kiss on her husbands mouth. He is a good man, one with a difficult past, but she has always known that the destruction of his relationship with his sister was the biggest regret of his life, something that lived as a shadow in his eyes. A shadow that lifted when Therese forgave him, gifting him with another chance to be the older brother he should have been all along. She does not wish to see those shadows return if he was to lose Therese again so soon.

_"We will get her through this Robert." _She says with determination. _"And then we will find out the source of her unhappiness and try to help. We have to stay strong now my love, she needs us."_

Robert nods. _"Can I sit with her a while, can you manage downstairs without me?"_

Amelia smiles at him. _"Of course my dear. We have only two rooms let right now; I can manage alone. Read to her or something, the sound of your voice will be a comfort to her. I will make a soothing tisane to ease her cough, I'll bring it up shortly."_

Robert manages a smile, then he bends to kiss the top of his wife's head softly. _"Thank you my love." _He whispers to her, before he vanishes swiftly through the door to his sister's room.

He takes a seat next to her bed, and notices unhappily that Therese is fitful, tossing and turning as her body burns with fever. Her normally flawless skin covered in angry red patches, her breathing weasy and unsteady, sometimes wracked with coughing. Since she started to feel unwell five days ago, until last night, she has gotten progressively worse. Amelia is correct that her condition remains the same as yesterday, no more severe, but no improvement either; he is deathly worried.

Worry that stems not only from her physical condition, but her mental state too. Whatever is troubling her, its serious.

The train of his thoughts is interupted as Therese coughs violently, and Roberts dives for the glass of water next to her bed. Rising, he slips his arm under her slender shouders and lifts her so that she can drink as her coughing subsides.

Too weak even to thank him she swallows a little, and then seems to drift off to sleep in his arms. He lowers her back down, and returns to the chair.

He's reading, one feverish hand clasped gently in his when she starts to toss again in the bed, mumbling to herself, her words a jumble, nothing clear enough to decipher until he makes out a name.

_"Bastian." _She says, _"Can't see you . . . where are you? Miss you . . . I miss you so much."_

Bastian? He thinks. Who is Bastian? Therese has never mentioned the name before.

_"Can't marry you . . .want to . . . want so much . . .have to leave, go away, not the bride . . . take mistress, Earl . . .Earl . . . love you too much . . . always love you Bastian . . .always. Miss . . . Berkley . . . miss your face . . . never see again . . . never see . . . all alone . . . alone."_

Therese's eyes are shut tight, but Robert can still detect tears escaping from beneath her lashes. Her expression is tortured, lonely . . . lost. Who ever this Bastian is, his sister is apparently deeply in love with him.

_"Can't marry . . . must leave . . . go now . . . mustn't find . . . will look . . . mustn't find."_

It's not much to go on, but buried in these feverish mutterings, lies the answer to Robert's questions. Here then is why Therese is so unhappy; she's heartbroken, separated from the man she loves by what looks like her own hand. Robert wonders would have made her voluntarily leave this man, especially as Therese has mentioned marriage twice. If Bastian proposed, if his intentions were honorable and Therese in love with him, why on earth would she run away? Why would she hide, what does 'mustn't find' mean - what could be the reason?

She's too ill to explain it to him, and far too weak. The word 'Earl' though, Therese spoke it twice, and his sister has been a governess for many years, Robert wonders if its possible that 'Bastian' is an Earl. An Earl and a governess . . . its almost impossible to think anyone of that rank would offer marriage to a governess. Granted his sister is beautiful, but marriage . . . and why would she turn him down? An offer of marriage from an Earl . . . wealth, title, a life of ease and luxury . . . why would anyone run away from that? What is Berkley?

Therese coughs violently again, tears still slipping down a face creased with worry and despair. Robert tightens his grip on her small feverish hand. He has to do something, say something to ease her mind. Leaning close he speaks, trying desperately to think of something calming to say but what comes out takes him by surprise.

_"Bastian is coming . . . Therese . . . do you hear me? I'm going to find him for you."_

Robert grimaces the moment the words are out, what is he thinking to tell her this. But the words have an immediate effect on her; her faces eases, she calms and seems to settle into a more peaceful slumber. Her breathing is still labored, but deeper and more even.

Robert is stunned. He has to find out who this 'Bastian' is, this man whose memory holds such power over Therese. He supposes he could look in her journals, but the violation of her privacy, if only there were some other way? He'll discuss it with Amelia before he makes any decision, for now he'll just watch over her sleep and pray her fever breaks soon. His prayers are answered. By late than night not only has Therese's fever finally broken, but she's more alert, even the rash covering her pale skin seems less angry, the redness finally starting to fade. By morning Therese is resting more comfortably, and when the doctor comes to check on her, he is pleased with her progress. Robert relaxes, as Therese is recovering he will be able to respect her privacy until she has regained her strength, and then he fully intends to have a conversation with his sister regarding this mysterious man of hers.

He waits almost two weeks in silence, mentioning nothing to Amelia as a courtesy to his sister, but then Therese's recovery stalls, her chest and her terrible cough refusing to clear as the doctor had hoped, and it is the doctor's concern that finally prompts Robert to action. Dr. Martindale comes to see Robert at the inn and over a pint of ale the doctor voices his concerns.

_"Robert, I have to tell you that I am a little concerned about your sister." _Dr. Martindale is a kindly man in his mid fifties, considered by all who know him to be the most qualified physician in all of Dumfries.

Robert sighs. He can already imagine what the doctor is about to tell him. _"She isn't getting better as quickly as she should, is she?" _He asks quietly.

Dr. Martindale shakes his greying head. _"I'm afraid not. She's young, and has been active and healthy to this point, she should have recovered fully by now, something is interferring with her recovery, and I'm wondering if you might be able to shed any light on it for me?"_

Robert nods. _"When she was in the midst of her fever, she mentionned a mans name . . . it appears Therese is in love doctor, and for reasons I don't know she has fled the south and is desperately unhappy to be parted from him."_

The Doctor looks serious. _"Sadness is a strange thing Robert, it can ail the body as well as the mind. Find out what is causing it Robert, if its this man, talk to her about it, and if you can alleviate her sadness you must do it. The infection that has settled in her chest is secondary to the disease she had, and it worries me. If she were in a better frame of mind it would aid her recovery, we must do all we can dear boy, I do not wish to see this gets any worse."_

Robert nods his agreement. "_I'll talk to her today, try and find out if there is anything I can do."_

Robert is as good as his word to Dr. Martindale. He makes Therese a restorative tisane and takes it to her room. He finds her sitting in an armchair next to the chimneyplace, Amelia has lit a roaring fire and instructed his sister to sit close to the warmth and not move. His wifes devoted care of Therese warms him. Handing her the tisane he smiles at her gently, wrapping her fingers securely around the china cup and saucer, before seating himself opposite her.

"_How are you feeling sister?"_ He begins.

_"I am better Robert, do not worry." _Her voice is a little raspy, and the hands clasping the china cup tremble slightly. Robert notices the dark circles under both eyes, the pallor of her skin, her normally dark shiny hair looks limp. He steels himself to ask her the tough question.

_"Therese . . . who is 'Bastian'?"_

Startled, haunted eyes dart to his face. _"What?"_ She whispers.

_"You spoke of him when your fever was raging, you said you missed him and that you loved him. I'm worried Therese, what has happened to distress you so?"_

Therese says nothing, she looks away into the flames of the fire and Robert sees her thoughts are far away; he waits, wanting her to confide in him of her own free will.

Finally she looks back at him, her reply, when it comes is whisper quiet.

_"He was my employer Robert. Sebastian Berkley, the Earl of Gloucester."_

So 'Bastian' really is a member of the aristocracy, and his sister's former employer . . .oh God, Robert thinks.

_"Did he hurt you Therese? Did he . . . did he compromise you?" _He asks.

_"No . . .he could never hurt me. He is a good man, an honorable one." _She says.

_"He is the reason you came north though . . . is he not?" _Her brother presses.

_"I was dimissed, there was a scandal . . . it does not matter, leave it be."_

Anger and worry force Robert on. _"What scandal Therese? Is he responsible for it?"_

His sister shakes her head. _"No Robert, Bastian tried to protect me. Please Robert don't ask me anymore."_

Robert leans close and grasps her wrist. _"Therese . . .just tell me this . . . are you in love with this man?"_

Therese does not respond at first, but tears fill her eyes and then she nods once, quickly.

_"And his Lordship, does he return your affections?"_

_"That cannot matter Robert, please . . . no more."_

Satisfied that he has learned some of what is causing his sisters depression, Robert simply hugs her and respects her request that he ask her no more questions about Sebastian. He knows his sister, she is inherently stubborn and if she does not want to share the details of her relationship with the Earl of Gloucester, she cannot be forced too. Whatever happened, it has left a lasting impression on Therese, her despair is palpable, it follows her around like an extra shadow, and its sapping her strength when she needs it the most; therefore he has to do something. He wasn't there for her when their parents died, he lost or gambled away every penny of their inheritance and that changed Therese's life profoundly. He cannot restore their former fortunes, but maybe if he learns more about Sebastian Berkley for himself, maybe there is something that can be done to reunite them.

Leaving Therese to her tisane and some rest, he discusses the matter with Amelia over dinner. His wife is in agreement, like him she is worried for her sister-in-laws recovery. It is decided that they will tell Therese that Robert has business in Edinburgh, in fact Robert will be catching the stage south, his destination - Gloucester, England. Once there he will make inquiries about the Earl, and then he will pay the man a visit.

Berkley Castle, England

November, 1816.

Bastian nurses a large brandy in his hands as he sits miserably slumped in an armchair by the fire in his study. After months without word of Therese, months in which he has invested enormous sums of money trying to locate her, he's finally quit London and returned to Berkley to lick his wounds in peace. Since his ballroom declaration the subject of his marriage has been dropped by everyone, leaving him relieved that at least that message has finally gotten across. But even so the rumors and whispers persist, that he has somehow taken leave of his senses and run mad. He couldn't care less. Let them all think what they will, the agony he lives with everyday consumes him, and everything else is just details.

He is still a dutiful landlord though, he minds his estate, makes sure everything runs smoothly, watches his investments and spends time with his sisters. The twins try every day to enliven him, and for their sake he makes an effort. He takes them riding, he teaches their lessons, he spends more time in their company than ever before. The girls are a link to Therese for him, and he feels an obligation to instruct them in her place, as he cannot bring himself to hire another governess to replace her.

Alathea is horrified, Earls - men - do not teach young ladies, but Bastian does not care in the least, and Alathea can do nothing to stop him. Though she is not responsible for Therese's sudden departure, Bastian still can not stand to be around her any longer, so he has given her the use of the Dower House at the Castle gate, but does not permit her to set foot in Berkley's halls. He would not house her at all, but she is the twins mother, and after losing his own mother while in his teens he cannot bring himself to inflict that pain on the girls. Alicia and Eliza are innocent parties in his argument with Alathea, he will not make them pay for it.

Today has been particularly difficult, the lastest reports from all the towns he has people searching, especially Carlisle, as that was where Therese's trail went cold, all came in cold, no news. He'd sat with Alastair in this very room, opening report after report, each time praying for news that never came. Alastair has learned to say nothing regarding the search, to merely ask for further instructions instead, but his face, the tone of his voice, all tell Bastian what Alex will not; that Alex considers the search should end, that Bastian should accept that Therese has successfully disappeared for good.

He cannot live with that, he cannot. To think his life stretches out before him endlessly, empty of her, her voice, her smile, her kiss . . . it's more than he can bare. He has no choice but to continue looking, for however long it takes. He'll turn all of England upside down if he has too, but it is not in him to give up.

He swirls the brandy around the glass, then tips it to his lips, swallowing the remainder in a single gulp. The fine liquor warms his throat, he notices it absently, wishing it could chase the chill from his soul. Suddenly there is knock at the study door, Dobbs appears and Bastian can see his butler looks nervous.

_"What is it man?"_ Bastian growls.

The butler clears his throat. _"Excuse me my lord, but there is a man at the castle entrance, he is demanding to speak with you directly."_

Bastian returns his attention to his empty glass. _"I'm not in the mood for callers Dobbs. Tell him to request an appointment from my secretary, its late."_

_"Beg pardon my lord. He will not leave, and he claims he is Ms. Brandon's brother sir." _

Stunned brown eyes look up, in a heartbeat their expression changes from apathy to raging fire. Can it be true? He thinks, could his caller really be Therese's estranged brother? What could have brought him here, and at this hour? He is up and out of his chair in a flash, striding for the entrance hall.

His caller is pacing the flagstones, a few inches shorter than Bastian, with thinning hair . . . and his sisters' eyes. They pull Bastian up short, he knows instantly that this is Therese's brother; it's not only in the eyes but in the bone structure of his face too.

The man looks Bastian over, looking first worried and then somewhat intimidated. Then he speaks before Bastian is able to introduce himself.

_"Forgive the interuption . . . but you are Sebastian Berkley are you not?"_

Bastian steps forward and holds out his hand. Robert hesistates and then reaches out to shake it, hes travelled a long way, for days, all to meet this man.

_"I am Mr. Brandon. You are Therese's brother." _It is not a question.

Robert nods. Now that he's here, now that he's barged into this enormous castle with all it's opulence, and it's wealthy, handsome master - he doesn't know how to begin, he doesn't even know the whole story. Then looking up into the dark brown eyes surveying him he notices something familiar. The Earl has dark circles under his eyes, eyes clouded with a sadness that echoes his sister's, whatever has parted them the Earl is suffering too; it gives Robert some hope. Bastian's grip on his hand tightens.

_"Tell me she's okay."_ The Earl pleads. _"Please . . . please tell me you know where she is?"_ The desparation in the deep voice is unmistakable.

Robert nods, something of the tension inside him lightening, somehow, someway, he suddenly knows everything is going to be okay. He squeezes Bastians hand back.

_"She is safe sir, but she has been gravely ill. That's why I have come, at the height of her fever she spoke of you, of her love for you. I need to know why she is so sad my Lord, and why that sadness is preventing her from getting well as she should?"_

The Earl's face twists in worry, but he shepherds Robert along the corridor from the entrance hall to his study. He pours Robert a brandy and refills his own glass, then indicating that Robert should take a seat he says . . . _"Her sadness is as my own Mr. Brandon. When two people love each other as your sister and I do, it is an agony every moment to be parted. Let me tell you our story, then perhaps you can help me put things right."_

Robert nods his acceptance, so Bastian begins.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty Two: The Gown & the Gift.

Bristol, England

December, 2010

"_What do you think of this one?"_

Brennan glances away from the full length mirror she is looking into over to where the store assistant has pulled another regency gown out for her to look at. She is having probably the most fun she's had in ages, playing dress-up in this wonderful shop like a little girl. With seven days remaining until the ball, she's finally made it into Bristol to dress hunt.

"_It's beautiful . . . can I be a pain and try it on as well?" _She asks.

The assistant giggles, they've been at it for hours, but the store is quiet today – most people too busy with Christmas shopping to need costumes for things and so she's pretty much had both the store and the assistant, a lovely girl by the name of 'Molly' all to herself.

"_Absolutely Dr. Brennan, I think I also have another one down in the basement, let me go and see." _ Molly hangs the gown in her hand on the edge of the mirror and disappears with a smile on her face.

Molly has been very patient. The store – 'Caroline's Closet' is located on a place called 'Christmas Steps' in the city of Bristol, a port town some twenty five miles southwest of Berkley Castle. There is still plenty of snow on the ground and the temperature hasn't gotten above a couple of degrees Celsius in weeks, but the roads a pretty clear so she drove down this morning. The city itself is large and very spread out, but the city centre is really quite small and it floats over the river. There are lots of cobbled streets and trees, history is everywhere and Brennan loves it. 'Christmas Steps' is actually a really steep pedestrian street, consisting of long, slanted flights of cobbled steps constructed in the seventeenth century. Merchants' houses that have long been converted into a variety of stores, restaurants and pubs line it, but to Brennan, it's still like she's again stepped back in time.

The costume store carries a wide variety of costumes but it is famous for its huge regency style selection, and Brennan thinks she must have tried on thirty gowns so far today. She has no set color in her mind and has let Molly dress her all day; waiting to look in the mirror and suddenly 'know' this is her gown for the ball.

Therese Berkley would have had the very best of everything as a Countess, and Brennan knows that Sebastian spoiled his wife in every way possible, therefore it matters to Brennan that the dress she chooses should be the most beautiful, the most elegant, the most flattering one she can find. She's looking for something really special, something worthy of a countess, that will wow even Richard, who as he hosts this ball every year will have seen everything before.

So far, though many of the gowns are beautiful she hasn't found what she is looking for.

She takes a look at Molly's latest suggestion, its dark blue with delicate ivory lace along the neckline and around the sleeve openings; small seed pearls dot the bodice. Brennan knows the color will suit her, but though it's very elegant she doesn't think it's quite right, but she takes it into the changing room anyway. When she emerges and checks her reflection she finds her original assessment is borne out.

Molly reappears and stands behind her, looking over her shoulder.

"_You know." _She says. _"You really look great in anything . . . but since we've been through a lot and you still haven't found the 'wow' dress, I think you should take a look at this one."_

Brennan spins dutifully to see what Molly has brought her this time, and when her breath catches in her throat she knows she's found her dress.

"_It's pretty don't you think? This is more detailed, more delicate than most of the gowns we've tried, it's been sitting downstairs in storage because it's awfully expensive, but I thought you might like it." _Molly holds the dress up before her, and Brennan reaches out a hand to run it appreciatively across the fine fabric.

"_I think this might be the one Molly, its exquisite." _

The dress is a combination of pale pink and white. The bodice and the sleeves are pink in color but the fabric is shot through with a delicate flowery pattern in white. The edge of the bodice is white with a pink ribbon in the centre. Under the bodice the dress divides, the back is pink falling around to the front almost like a train, while the body of the gown is white and delicately patterned. The hem is lace and has a pink ribbon shot through it, and the caps of the short sleeves are detailed in lace also. In total it's a heavenly creation, one that with her dark auburn hair will look amazing.

"_There's a cloak that ties at the neck too, probably won't need that, but it comes together anyway. Try it on Dr. Brennan." _Molly hands the gown over.

"_We'll need to lace you into it at the back, just step out when you're ready." _She says.

Five minutes later both Molly and Brennan are staring at her reflection in the mirror stunned.

"_Wow. You look so beautiful in it Dr. Brennan, really, it's as if it was designed just for you."_ Molly smiles at her.

Brennan nods. All she knew when she started to look this morning was that the dress needed to make a statement, it needed to be beautiful and she knew how she wanted to feel wearing it. Now that she's found it, she can't quite believe how the dress makes her feel. She'll need to do something with her hair; her shoulder length style with its long side parted bangs is too modern by far, but apart from that she looks like she could be an early nineteenth century countess.

The dress moulds to her figure at the top, and then demurely falls away, and yet it seems to showcase her figure completely. The color brings warmth and luminosity to her pale skin and for some reason makes her blue eyes stand out even more than normal. For the Berkley Ball, it's beyond perfect, hell though it covers her completely she thinks even Booth might be awed by it.

"_This is the one Molly. I know you normally rent them, but I noticed most of the others had purchase prices on them too, what about this one?"_

Molly looks for the tag in the hem at the back. _"You can rent or buy this one too. The rental is a hundred pounds, the purchase price is steep."_ Molly looks apologetically at her.

Brennan smiles, realizing she doesn't care what it costs her. This dress is her Christmas gift to herself, and what's the point of being wealthy if you don't indulge every now and then. _"I can handle it . . . spit it out Molly."_

Molly cringes. _"It's a thousand pounds Dr. Brennan, it's made to look period, but it's a vintage piece in its own right."_

Brennan laughs. _"Don't look so worried Molly, I love it, and to me its worth every single penny, I'll take it."_

Molly beams. _"Really? Awesome. Let's take it off you and I'll wrap it all in tissue and box it up for you. You'll be the bell of this ball your going to you know, I know it."_

Looking back at her reflection in the mirror again Brennan silently agrees with her, this gown is a real find, and she can hardly wait for the night of the ball to come so that she can actually wear it.

When she gets back to Berkley that evening she runs into Richard in front of the giant Christmas tree in the entrance hall.

The Earl smiles his welcome, and motions her over to join him.

"_I see shopping bags and I large box Temperance, I take it your excursion to Bristol went well?"_ He asks jovially.

Smiling back at him she says, _"I had the most amazing day Richard. I found the costume store with no problems and I found exactly what I was hoping too."_

"_Are you going to show me?"_ He asks.

Brennan shakes her head laughing. _"It won't have the right effect unless I'm actually wearing it." _She says. _"I want it to be a surprise, but I will tell you that it's fit for a Countess; I'll do Therese proud Richard."_

The Earl laughs too. _"I don't doubt that for a moment my dear, I look forward to seeing it, and to accompanying you to the ball. Do you waltz Temperance?"_

Brennan inclines her head. _"Of course your lordship; will you do me the honor?"_

"_That's my line my dear." _He says fondly, tucking her free arm through his, to walk her back to her chamber. _"Now tell me everything else you did today." _He adds companionably.

Washington, D.C

December, 2010

Booth sighs as he signs the leave of absence form Deputy Director Hacker left for him earlier. He is officially out of holiday entitlement, and Hacker wasn't impressed that Booth wanted time off, but in the end he agreed to sign off on it. It was a begrudging agreement, but Booth doesn't care.

It's eight o'clock at night and he's had a crap day. Hannah obviously hasn't managed to re-route her mail yet, and this morning when he opened the mail box at his apartment it was full of stuff addressed to her. It depressed him. He isn't in anyway regretting the end of their relationship, he's completely focused on setting his life back on the course he should have stayed true too all along, but the mail was an unwelcome reminder of his giant screw-up and he really doesn't need anymore of those.

The giant silence that is his relationship with Brennan right now is reminder enough.

Since they spoke a few weeks ago they've had no further contact. He has a big reason he hasn't called her, he has to fix things face to face, but it bugs him that she hasn't contacted him at all. He takes some small comfort in the fact that according to the squint squad she hasn't contacted anyone except Cam to request more time off, and Angela for some reconstruction help relating to her English identification work.

Ang even told him he was worrying too much, that he should know what she's like when she's working, but in his heart he knows it all comes back to him and Hannah.

God he just wants to get on a plane already.

He's made his decision, he's sorted out his leave, he's told his son, but finding a flight he can actually afford is now also proving to be a headache.

He closes down his computer and standing picks up the leave form, intending to drop it off on Hackers' assistants desk on his way out, but just as he's about to leave, Hodgins arrives.

"_Hey Booth."_ The entomologist grins in welcome and then flops down in the seat in front of Booth's desk.

"_I was just leaving." _Booth says tightly in place of a greeting.

"_Yeah? Well take a seat big guy I need to talk to you." _Hodgins replies amiably.

Blowing out a sigh of annoyance, Booth pulls his chair back out and dutifully sits down.

"_What do you want Hodgins? I'm not in the mood."_

Hodgins rolls his vivid blue eyes. _"Not here to lecture you man, I got the skinny from Ang already and I know what your plan of action is. And I gotta tell you . . . thank God . . . Ang was beginning to drive me insane about the whole 'Hannah' thing, so in return for you figuring things out, I have a gift for you."_

Hodgins leans over the desk and hands Booth a white letter-sized envelope.

Booth stares at it like its dangerous or something, then raising his brows he says, _"You got me a gift? Why?"_

Hodgins smiles. _"You just made my life easier, my wife super happy and Dr. B means the world to both of us . . . this is something I could do for you, so I did it."_

"_I don't understand." _ Booth replies.

"_Open the envelope and all shall be revealed."_

Booth turns the envelope over and breaks the seal. He pulls out an airline ticket, a hotel booking confirmation and finally a rental car agreement. The plane ticket leaves in five days, open-ended roundtrip ticket to London, England and then onto Bristol, England – first class. His hotel reservation is for Berkley Castle, the place he knows Brennan is staying, and his car rental is top-of-the-line. Booth looks up at Hodgins open-mouthed.

Hodgins simply smiles at him.

Finally finding his voice, Booth stutters. _"Hodgins . . . this is . . . this is . . . I can't accept this, it's too much."_

Hodgins leans closer over the desk, his face is intent.

"_I have more money than I can spend in ten lifetimes Booth. A fact I know you are aware of. This isn't charity; this is a gift from one friend to another. Take it, and go bring your girl home Booth."_

Booth looks back down at the tickets, humbled that Hodgins would do this; this gesture solves all his problems bar the ones remaining with Brennan.

"_I don't know what to say . . . except thank you. This is really amazing of you Hodgins." _

Hodgins stands, a pleased expression on his boyish face. He holds out his hand, and standing Booth reaches over to shake it warmly.

"_Happy Christmas Booth. Now go bring Brennan home."_

Booth nods. _"I'll get right on that." _He says. _"Trust me."_

Hodgins leaves and Booth stares after him; I'm coming Temperance he thinks to himself as he looks down at the airplane ticket again, I'm coming.


	24. Chapter 24

Author's Note: Thank you to all the reviewers for your kind comments – keep them coming. I did lots of research looking for a regency gown idea that would suit Brennan for the Berkley Ball – in the end I found a drawing of something that I immediately could see would suit her, if anyone wants to see this drawing they can PM me with their email address and I will happily send it to you so that you can 'really' picture it.

And now back to the story . . .

Chapter Twenty Three: The Homecoming in the Journey.

Berkley Castle, England

December, 1816

Robert awakens in a plush guest chamber at Berkley and stretches, noting absent mindedly how soft the linens are and how comfortable the bed is. It's grey and stormy outside and wind howls around the castle walls, the sky is cold and forbidding, but the fire still blazes in the hearth and the castle is warm and hospitable.

To think that Therese will be mistress of all this, he smiles to himself, for he does not doubt for a moment that his sister WILL be mistress of this place. Sebastian's will his goal of making Therese his wife, it's implacable, and the decision set in stone as immovable as the castle walls. The Earl's love for Therese is so real, so vital, and so undeniable that Robert believed him completely when Bastian told him last night the reasons he believed Therese ran away.

That Therese would want to protect the man she loves, even from the stigma of an inappropriate match, he knows her well enough to accept this; but even more clearly Robert sees that Therese would need to protect her own heart. Losing their parents at such a young age, and then Robert betraying the trust she had in him when he abandoned her, it has made her wary. Bastian is aristocracy, and fidelity is virtually a foreign concept to men of his class, if Therese loves him, she would give him her whole heart, that betrayal would break her. Robert understands this.

He sees now that he's met the Earl himself, that Bastian understands this too; what Therese does not know yet is that Bastian is not capable of betraying her in any way. He would rather die than inflict even the slightest hurt on her, and when Bastian comes to Dumfries with him, Robert prays the Earl will be able to convince Therese of this himself.

They leave today. The journey back to Dumfries will be quicker than Robert's journey south. For starters they will not be travelling by stage, but in the Earl's own covered carriage with footmen and a groom to accompany them, and Bastian tells him they will change horses' en-route when necessary. Robert estimates they will arrive in about four days if they can keep a fast pace and the weather is not too bad.

He is nervous about Therese's reaction to his journey south, but he has faith in what Bastian is telling him, that he will remain in Dumfries as long as is required to convince Therese she has nothing to fear in accepting him. Robert wants to see them happy, to give his sister into the Earl's keeping, because he truly believes that this is indeed where she belongs. Robert feels so blessed in his own marriage, to have his sister find that same contentment and fulfillment, it would be a dream come true.

He will do anything he can to assist in making it happen.

Robert gets up and washes, dresses and then goes in search of the breakfast parlor hoping he won't get lost on the way, he has to ask a few of the staff, but everyone is unfailingly polite and courteous so he only makes a wrong turn once.

Bastian is waiting for him, the Earl is immaculately clothed and appears ready to leave already, Robert is pleased to see the dark shadows under the man's eyes have faded a little, as if the Earl has finally managed to get a proper nights rest.

"_Good morning my Lord." _Robert nods a polite greeting.

The Earl's charming smile lights up the room. _"Good morning Mr. Brandon, I trust you kept a comfortable night?"_

"_Yes indeed sir, most comfortable. You appear ready to leave?" _Robert says.

Bastian nods. _"Oh I am, but do not let that stop you from enjoying some breakfast. If you require anything ask one of the footmen or Dobbs the butler for assistance. I am going to check on the carriage and the horses and then we can be away. Will an hour suffice?"_

Robert smiles inwardly at the eagerness he can detect in the man's tone of voice. _"I will be ready." _He replies.

"_Excellent. I'll have the carriage pulled up to the front entrance, you can meet me there." _Bastian turns to leave, then pauses at the door of the parlor, one hand on the door handle he turns back.

"_I am indebted to you Mr. Brandon, for coming to find me . . . I promise you that I will make your sister the happiest of women, she will never want for anything, she will be loved, adored even, every day . . . I swear it."_

Before Robert can reply, Bastian pulls the door open and vanishes swiftly through it.

As he strides for the stables Bastian marvels at how life has again changed for him in the span of a day. Yesterday morning the lack of news was crushing him to his soul, and this morning he not only knows where Therese is, but that he will see her again in only a few days. That knowledge has sent his spirits soaring and infused him with strength once more, as he reaches the stable yard he smiles at the whimsy that has brought him here.

He ducks into Nero's stall and reaches into a pocket for a sugar lump to offer in greeting. The large chestnut gelding chomps the treat down and then butts Bastian in the middle looking for more.

"_Sorry boy, that's all the sugar you get this morning." _He says, rubbing the long aristocratic line of the horse's nose. Then he confides to what he has come to think of as 'Therese's horse' his good news, just as if the horse can understand every word.

"_I've found her Nero." _He whispers into the horse's ear. _"Soon I'll bring her home and you'll be hers once more. You'll like that won't you? Hmmmm? Of course you will, and I know my dearest love will be so happy to see you again."_

Bastian gives the horse a final pat and then hollers for his groom. _"O'Brien. O'Brien . . . damn it man, where are you?"_

He can hear his shout repeated as the stable hands call for the head groom also, and in mere moments old O'Brien appears at the other end of the stable.

Breathless the groom runs over. _"You wanted me your Lordship?" _He puffs.

Bastian nods. _"I need the covered carriage, the larger one, ready to leave in forty five minutes O'Brien, hitch it to my matched grays', I leave for Scotland within the hour."_

O'Brien's eyes widen. _"Scotland your Lordship? At this time of year?"_

The old groom's eyes widen still further as Bastian's face breaks into a joyous smile the likes of which none of his staff have seen in months.

"_I've found her O'Brien."_

The groom smiles suddenly back. _"Miss Therese? That is Miss Brandon I mean." _He says.

Nodding happily Bastian tells him. _"Soon to be the Countess of Gloucester, O'Brien, if I have anything to say on the matter, and until I can convince her to marry me I shan't return home, so pray she agrees quickly there's a good chap."_

"_Aye me Lord. Happy to see her back we'll all be and there's no mistake. I wish you happy your Lordship, we all do." _

Bastian claps the old groom on the shoulder. _"Thank you. Now hurry with that carriage man and I can be on my way."_

"_Be there directly my Lord." _The groom hurries away and Bastian can hear him yelling instructions as he goes. True to his word, O'Brien has the carriage and horses ready to leave at the front castle entrance with time to spare. Valet's and footmen bring the luggage and when Robert appears beside him everything is in readiness for their departure.

Robert whistles softly as he looks the fine carriage over, then walks to the front to admire the perfectly matched horses in full livery.

"_You approve Mr. Brandon?" _Bastian asks.

"_Your horses are very fine my Lord and this carriage is unlike anything I've ever ridden in before." _The sheer depth of the Earldom's coffers continues to amaze Robert; it's a little unsettling to be confronted with the sort of wealth he could never dream of.

Bastian opens the carriage door and motions for Robert to enter, then when they are seated safely inside the Earl raps with a cane on the carriage floor and with a small jolt the horses are set in motion and the carriage is away.

The Earl smiles happily over at his travelling companion and asks humbly, _"So Mr. Brandon may I call you Robert?"_

Dumfries, Scotland

Four days later . . .

Amelia clears the dining table after dinner and as she removes Therese's plate she notices unhappily that her sister-in-law is still only barely eating enough to keep a sparrow alive, it just won't do.

Her cough has improved somewhat since Robert supposedly left for Edinburgh, but her chest still does not sound right to Amelia, and Dr. Martindale is still visiting every other day, the concern on his face obvious whenever he calls.

Robert has been away ten days, and in that time Amelia has heard nothing from him, not that she really expected to. It is long enough though for him to have made it to Gloucester and begun his search, if the Earl was in residence at his principal seat her husband should have made his acquaintance by now. Of course if the Earl is in London, and all the aristocracy have homes in the capital also, it would have taken Robert another few days journey and then some time in London to track the Earl down.

It feels like he's been gone to long, but realistically Amelia knows this is not really the case.

Still she hopes he comes back soon, preferably with answers or better yet with an Earl in tow, Therese is a gentle, intelligent, beautiful woman and Amelia wants desperately to see her happy, not only because of Robert, but because she just believes her sister-in-law deserves to be.

Now that Robert has pointed out his sister's unhappiness, Amelia can see it for herself and she finds it admirable that Therese tries so hard in an effort to hide it. Despite her illness and the remaining weakness she is suffering, Therese is back to teaching at the local school two days per week. She helps around the inn and with her nieces' lessons; Amelia tries hard to ensure she does not over tax her strength but Therese is stubborn and insists on helping out.

She has not really inquired about her brother's long absence and Amelia wonders if that is simply because she's so fixed on getting through the day she doesn't notice the time passing.

There is a disturbance outside the inn suddenly, drawing Amelia back from her thoughts as she hears hoof beats thundering on the cobbles outside, and a loud shout go up.

She throws a glance in Therese's direction, but Therese is sewing quietly at the dining table and seems not to notice, so Amelia goes to the window and looks down into the street outside.

A large black carriage with footmen on the box and a groom in the rear has pulled up outside the inn, there is coat of arms painted on the side but its dark out and she cannot make out much. She watches one of the footman jump down to open the carriage door and when she sees her husband emerge and step down she almost squeals in delight.

As she continues to watch, she sees a tall, broad shouldered, dark haired man exit the carriage behind Robert, he glances up at the inn, seeming to take in everything swiftly, and dark eyes in an absurdly handsome face catch her starring down at him. This then, Amelia thinks, must be Therese's Earl.

Excitedly she turns back into the dining room, she heads for the door to the stairs and at the doorway she stops, turns back to face Therese and says, _"Therese, do come . . . Robert is home." _Then to impatient to wait any longer she runs down the stairs, through the pub and to the inn's front door, which she wrenches wide.

She finds her husband directly on the other side and as he smiles wide Amelia jumps into his arms.

"_Robert . . . dearest, you're home at last." _She laughs into his ear.

Robert swings his wife around, hugging her tight before he deposits her back on her dainty feet and with his arm wrapped around her waist he introduces her to his companion.

"_Amelia, I'd like you to meet Sebastian Berkley, the Earl of Gloucester. Your Lordship, my wife Amelia."_

Amelia drops a dainty curtsy and holds out her small hand, Bastian steps close, engulfs her hand in his and bows low over it.

"_Mrs. Brandon it is my very great honor to meet you. Your husband has spoken of you often over our journey and I feel almost as if we are old friends already."_

Amazed at the ease and grace, at the warm and friendly tone of his words Amelia can only smile widely at him. She struggles frantically to find her voice and words of welcome for him.

"_The pleasure is all mine your Lordship, as is the honor. Welcome to Dumfries and the Pedler's Inn, I am delighted to meet you."_

Bastian is about to reply when suddenly he stops, his eyes fixed on something behind her. He steps around her and Amelia turns knowing that Therese has followed her down and now stands in the doorway illuminated by the light from within.

Therese stares out into the dark winter night unable to believe what her own eyes are telling her. Expecting to greet her brother, home from his business trip, she finds a scene on the street in front of the inn that she could never have conjured.

A huge black carriage blocks her view; Robert is there, as is Amelia and behind Amelia she sees . . . it can't be . . . how is this possible, how can it be real . . . ?

"_Bastian?" _Her voice is barely a whisper.

The Earl is suddenly right in front of her, stunned her eyes fill with tears as she scans his beloved face. She reaches a trembling hand up to touch his face, his eyes, also shining with tears close at the tentative touch and then she is in his embrace.

His arms close like a steel vice around her, warmth and strength infuse her, his face buries itself in the crook of her shoulder and she hears him murmur in broken tones.

"_Never leave me again, do you hear me Therese . . . for I shall surely die if you do. Oh my love the agony . . . the agony without you . . ."_

The tears in her eyes spill over, now that he is here she can do nothing but cling to him as if her very life depends on it, and burying her face against his chest she can feel nothing but joy.


	25. Chapter 25

Authors Note: I have changed my author avatar to show the drawing of Brennan's regency ball gown for the upcoming Berkley Ball – enjoy.

Chapter Twenty Four: Gestures.

Washington to England

Dec 2010

Booth has decided that traveling 'First Class' is amazing and really the only way to go.

Granted he managed to sort of sneak some in on his trip to China with Brennan, but this time he's legit and somehow that makes all the difference. His flight left Regan National four hours ago and he's due to touch down in London's Heathrow airport in another four. It's night, the plane is dimly lit and quiet and he's got this amazing fully flat sleeper bed all to himself, he would try to rest but he's so geared up right now he's simply enjoying having the room, but doubts he'll actually be able to sleep.

The next leg of his journey, from London to Bristol, he couldn't tell from the ticket but it turns out that Hodgins has chartered a helicopter for just him; someone will be waiting to pick him up. Booth smiles to himself as he peruses the movie listings, it must be really nice to have that kind of money he thinks, really nice.

The thought makes him pause.

It still amazes him that Hodgins made this gesture, Booth knows the squint squad adore Brennan, but he's always kind of assumed they 'tolerate' him; he's begun to change his mind about that. They really do think of themselves as 'his' people, 'his' brain trust, with Brennan as their official link to him, and if he's honest with himself, much as he doesn't think the same way they do, he can truthfully say he really does like them all.

He can see how happy he's made them now that he's taken his head out of his ass and followed his heart in the direction it's always needed to go.

He can hardly stand the wait now, and at the same time he's never really been this nervous about seeing Brennan, not even when he came back from Afghanistan was he this unsure of what to expect.

Hannah was, he sees now, his safety net when he returned, she was a sort of tangible proof that he'd done exactly what he'd told Brennan he would.

At least that was what he'd thought she was, when all along she was really just a smoke-screen, a disguise for his heart to wear. Something applied over the top of his real feelings and real dreams, a layer of protection that was thin at best, and when peeled away left his heart in the same shape as ever before; desperately and forever in love with the only woman it has ever wanted.

Bones.

Like Brennan's two hundred year old 'Booth' doppelganger, who followed his heart on one course and one course only, Booth knows his fate is as indelibly carved.

All that remains to be discovered is whether his foolish detour has broken Brennan's delicate faith in love. Something he knows better than anyone else is a very real possibility.

But if it takes him the remainder of his life, he will not fail her like this again. He'll wait, he'll be there and he'll continue proving his love for her - to her – for as long as it takes.

And he swears to himself that this time, regardless of what she says, does or tries to do, he'll believe for both of them when she cannot.

He puts the movie guide down again, and rubs at his eyes. He still has a long journey to go, in more ways than one, and as fatigue begins to catch up on him he lies back on the sleeper bed and staring up at the airplane ceiling he can feel himself drifting.

He reaches inside his shirt and pulls out the dog-tags with his name on them that he's brought with him to give to Brennan. His original set from his old sniper days he gave to Rebecca for Parker when he's grown. When he went back to the Army they issued this set for his service in Afghanistan, he grabbed them right before he left on a sudden impulse and he hopes that she'll understand why he wants to gift them to her now.

In Afghanistan they represented his life, his existence. As long as they remained around his neck then he was still breathing and nothing had happened to him. If he'd been killed, they would have been removed and returned to his family. He's gifting them to Brennan as his way of telling her – as long as there is breath in my body then I, Seeley Joseph Booth, belong to you, while I exist, so does my love, and it's yours.

He thinks maybe it's a little sentimental, a little silly, but she needs to know that even when he was there with Hannah – he still belonged to her. She was his emergency contact, his family, his partner, if he'd fallen, these tags would have been given to her.

He falls into sleep with them still clutched in his hand, smiling softly as he dreams and the flight gets ever closer to his destination.

Berkley Castle, England

Dec, 2010

Brennan laughs loudly as Richard spins her around the ballroom for the twentieth time that afternoon.

"_Enough, enough." _She stops dancing and smiles at him as she tries to catch her breath. _"I think I need to sit down for a moment . . . I'm exhausted."_

Her dance partner laughs with her and they retreat to seats lining the walls of the huge room, Richard leaves the music blaring but calls to one of catering staff for refreshments.

"_Well you said your waltz was rusty my dear, now you need have no fears at all." _ The Earl grins at her wickedly.

Brennan smiles and leans back in her chair closing her eyes. _"You're right." _She admits. _"I did mention I hadn't waltzed in years. Still I seem to remember it being a lot more sedate than that . . ."_ Opening her eyes again, she points at the ballroom floor, _"All that whirling and spinning it was so energetic."_

Richard smiles fondly. _"Did you know the waltz was originally a 'forbidden dance', that it didn't gain complete societal acceptance in England until 1819?" _He asks her.

Brennan nods her head. _"It was considered scandalous because the partners were allowed to touch, and that's also the reason it became so popular in the early nineteenth century. It allowed men and women to dance in each other's arms the entire time, and the steps and turns allowed them to brush against each other, very naughty."_

Richard nods. _"Exactly. It became very popular with the lower classes first, then the aristocracy couldn't stand to think of them having all the fun so the waltz gradually gained acceptance with them too. It was considered almost like making love standing up, and at a ball, if you were a sought after young lady it would be the waltzes on your dance card that every eager suitor would race to fill."_

Two glasses of cloudy lemonade are placed on a table next to them and Brennan reaches for one eagerly. Taking a long drink she drains the glass and then looking back at Richard she says . . . _"I'll make certain to save the waltz for you then my Lord."_

His eyebrows rise and then he says, _"I would happily be an eager suitor, but we both know that your heart belongs to another. Besides, there are many waltzes during the course of the evening, and we have other dances to practice so up you get."_

He grabs her hand and pulls her to her feet.

"_Other dances . . . yes I suppose there must be. What kind?"_ Brennan asks looking nervous all of a sudden.

The Earl counts them off on his fingers, "_Quadrilles, Scottish Reel, Cotillions, a country dance and the waltz."_

"_Everyone coming will know these? I'm afraid my ballroom dance knowledge does not include any of those." _Brennan sounds worried.

Richard shakes his head. _"Not everyone will know them. See the musicians stage at the far end, we have a dance master who goes over the steps, most are very simple, and then everyone lets loose, it's often quite amusing to watch but it's enormous fun. We have some professional dancers attend also; they'll give instruction as they go."_

Brennan doesn't look convinced, because he adds, _"Stop worrying, you'll do fine. And I'm going to teach you the basics right now . . . shall we?" _The Earl tugs her back out onto the dance floor.

Soon Brennan is laughing hard again as she contentedly wiles away the remaining afternoon.

When Richard finishes her dance instruction he sends her sweaty and tired to her room after getting her to agree to have dinner with him later in his private rooms. He goes to the castle's front desk to check on things when he sees a man arriving with luggage, and one look at his newest guest has his heart pounding in his chest.

The Earl makes his way over to the tall dark haired man, catching him before he can make it to check-in.

"_Agent Booth? You are Special Agent Seeley Booth are you not?" _Richard asks smiling wide in greeting and holding out his hand excitedly.

The agent stares at the Earl in confusion.

Booth has had a really long day. He's five hours out of his own time-zone and about ready to crash. He got into London at eleven am this morning, which felt strange as his flight left at ten pm and back home it was six am. Then by the time he cleared immigration and got his luggage it was twelve thirty. As Hodgins had promised there was a man with a sign reading 'Seeley Booth' and he was picked up and driven to a heliport thirty minutes away. He got to Bristol by three. He picked up his swanky BMW rental car and got directions to Berkley Castle and it's taken him three hours to negotiate the thirty miles between there and here.

He got lost a few times granted, but the traffic out of Bristol was awful, and his cars GPS definitely has issues.

He wants to just check-in and go find Bones and now he's being waylaid by a man a few years older than him, nice looking, who seems to know who he is.

Finding his voice, Booth ignores the man's outstretched hand for the moment and simply says. _"I'm Seeley Booth. I'm afraid you have the advantage."_

"_Richard Berkley, I'm a friend of Dr. Brennan's."_

Richard Berkley. The Earl who owns this place. Booth finds his manners and shakes the man's proffered hand.

The Earl's next words completely confuse him.

"_We have to hide you. Come with me Agent Booth."_

Frowning fiercely Booth replies. _"I'm sorry?"_

Richard tugs at Booth's arm. _"You don't want to ruin the surprise right now, trust me on this. If you're here for the reason I think you're here, I have a much better plan than you have dreamed up."_

Booth wrenches his arm free and the steely expression in his dark eyes tells the Earl that he won't get the man to move anywhere unless he offers up a damn good reason.

Sighing Richard says. _"You're here to tell Temperance you love her, and that you've broken it off with your live-in girlfriend. But if you'll just follow me to my office and let me get you out of sight, I'll let you in on a few key things you aren't aware of and we can set the scene for your reunion with Temperance properly."_

Infuriated Booth retorts. _"How? How do you know that, what things aren't I aware of? And how do you know who I am for that matter?" _

Richard stands eye to eye with Booth and reaches out to clap him on the shoulder.

"_Firstly, Temperance is my friend and she told me about your girlfriend; it's been making her very unhappy. Secondly, you are the image of my ancestor Sebastian Berkley, the seventh Earl, Temperance told me that too, so that's how I recognized you. And lastly, there is Ball tomorrow night Agent Booth, a costume ball with a Regency theme and if you've come all this way to prove to your partner that you love her, then should we not make that reunion and that declaration as romantic as possible dear boy?"_

Booth looks wary but says. _"And if I agree to come with you you'll explain your plan for how I should do that . . . why shouldn't I just go and find Bones right now and tell her?"_

The Earl smiles gently. _"Because Temperance deserves a grander gesture."_

Booth can't disagree with that. _"Alright."_ He says finally. _"Lead on."_


	26. Chapter 26

Authors Note: Please excuse the long gap in updates – real life has been insane.

Rating change for this chapter . . . ***Rated M.***

Chapter Twenty Five: To Have & To Hold.

Dumfries, Scotland

December, 1816

They stood in the cold and simply held each other for a very long time, finally Sebastian became aware that Therese was shivering in his arms and that Robert was very patiently waiting for them to disengage so that he could see them both safely inside the inn.

Reluctantly Bastian loosened his grip and tucking Therese under his arm, not willing to let her go completely not even for a moment, he smiled at his prospective brother-in-law and shepherded his love inside and up a flight of narrow stairs to the families living quarters.

Amelia bustled around her tiny kitchen, insisting they should sit at the large wooden table in the adjoining dining parlor. Bastian took the seat next to Therese and turning his chair to face hers; he picked up her hands in his and kissed them both, before lowering his head into her lap, sighing in relief. Therese, still stunned by his arrival, her emotions whirling every which way, contented herself with freeing a hand from his hot tight grip and burying it in his thick wavy hair she stroked his scalp soothingly.

She was not sure how long they remained this way, but her next conscious thought was to register the steaming cups of tea cooling on the table and a glance about her told her that Robert and Amelia had left them alone to talk.

"_Bastian?" _She whispered quietly. _"Why are you here?"_

Her question roused him immediately. His head shot up and the disbelief and despair in his dark eyes slashed at her heart painfully.

"_I've been searching all of England for you from the morning you left London! How can you ask me why I am here, why I have come? Is it not obvious Therese, I will not live without you my love, I cannot. I am here to claim the bride my heart and soul demand. I am here to tell you that all of society knows I will marry you or never marry. I am here to marry you Therese . . . to marry you and bring you home to Berkley where you belong."_

Staring into his face Therese looks really looks at him and is astounded by what she sees. His face is thinner than she remembers his complexion paler and there are dark smudges under his eyes that resemble the huge dark circles under her own. There is a wild light in his eyes, like a wounded animal crouches there, but underlying that love and desire for her blaze. Has he really been searching all these months? Has he really declared his intention to marry her to his peers? She knew he would look, but she had assumed that when her trail went cold he would have returned to his old life, his old ways once more.

Bastian watches her confusion; her emotions play out across her expressive face. He MUST convince her, lay all her fears to rest.

"_You thought I would have given up by now." _He says sadly.

Therese nods.

"_I will not give up on you Therese. If you leave me I will always search until we are reunited. I will never turn from you; I will never take another woman in your place. My heart, my very soul are yours Therese, I am not capable of hurting you in any form or fashion. I will be yours, and remain yours always, you need never fear. I am begging you to be my wife . . . do you understand? There is no other I will ever accept. Ever."_

That this is the truth she can no longer doubt, it shines out of his eyes with such blinding clarity that for a moment she forgets to breathe. He knows her fears, understands the reasons she fled, negates them utterly. The world shifts on its axis and when it rights itself suddenly everything is different. As great as she knows her love for Bastian to be, his love for her matches it exactly. When he tells her he loves her, he means externally, when he says he will never turn from her, never take a mistress, it's because this is to him such a simple truth. It truly does not bother him that she comes to him with nothing to offer but her love, he does not care for society's opinion . . . only his own.

She looks down at where her hands are once again gripped tightly within both of his. In her small hands she holds his happiness entirely, and all she has to say is . . .

"_Yes." _Her smile breaks like the sun across the horizon on a summer morning.

"_You'll marry me?" _He clarifies.

She nods, feeling like she should be laughing, uncontainable joy bubbles up inside her and then she is laughing, and hugging him and being swung up into his powerful arms and spun, spun until they are both dizzy.

"_I love you Bastian, I love you so much. I have missed you every day"_

His hold on her tightens even further at her declaration. He stops his exuberant whirling of her to settle her gently back on her feet. When her face tips up to meet his, he lowers his mouth possessively over hers and when she matches his ardor, kissing him back passionately he feels the steel bands that have banded his chest since the day she disappeared finally snap. He can breathe freely again, he's finally home.

They arrange to be married at the local parish church by special license five days later.

Bastian sends his soon-to-be wife shopping with her sister-in-law and a generously large sum of money to buy herself a wedding dress suitable for the future Countess of Gloucester, plus new gowns for Amelia as matron of honor, and both of his new nieces as the flower girls. He outfits himself and Robert also, and as flowers are harder to come by at this time of the year, he adds enormously to the churches simple Christmas greenery, decking the small stone structure from steeple to nave with holly, mistletoe and pine bows. He adds real wax candles in every nook and cranny, no tallow allowed.

The final effect is magical, and even though only family and Bastian's grooms will be in attendance, it suits the wedding couple and their once in a lifetime love.

Therese was concerned that Bastian would prefer a much larger wedding, but the groom professed to be completely content with the simple affair, stating that he would arrange a celebration back at Berkley when they were safely home for Christmas.

"_Time enough then for the girls and Alastair to join us in celebrating our union; as long as I am returning to the castle with my bride by my side then all is as it should be." _He'd told her, with a smile of such complete happiness shining in his dark eyes that she could only smile back in return.

The day of the wedding arrives in a whirl, and in years to come both bride and groom will often look back on this day, and on the vows they made in a small church in Scotland in the dead of winter and still declare everything about their special day perfect.

Bastian's groom stands beside his master at the front of the church, the organ plays the wedding march and as Therese appears on her brother's arm Bastian feels his eyes tear up with the force of the emotions flowing through him. Therese is stunning and radiantly happy as she walks to meet him. Her simple ivory gown detailed with satin ribbons and tiny pearls. Her dark auburn hair intricately braided , more pearls dotted throughout, to her future husband she is the most exquisite thing he's ever seen.

_"Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?" _The vicar asks.

Robert's reply rings with pride and warmth. _"I do."_

He places his sister's hand into Bastian's, clasps the Earl briefly on the shoulder and stands back.

Therese speaks her vows clearly, her eyes never leaving Bastian's face. Bastian in his turn makes his declarations loudly, the conviction in every word echoes off the stone walls of the church, and each word is carved into his brides heart, that she is loved beyond measure she will never doubt from this day onwards.

_"I now pronounce you husband and wife . . . you may kiss the bride." _

As Bastian pulls her against him, he whispers across her lips before settling his own upon them, warm and firm. _"I will love you . . .always." _The whisper says.

Outside the church the wintry afternoon sunshine is fading, Robert and Amelia's daughters throw rice at the newly weds and then the small happy party return to the inn. They will spend their wedding night here before returning to Berkley in time for Christmas, a family Christmas that will include Robert, Amelia and the girls, Bastian has hired staff in Dumfries to care for the inn into the new year, and another closed carriage to join his on the journey home.

His first Christmas with Therese promises to be memorable, but before that comes their wedding night, and since he has burned with desire for her since the first night they met, nervous anticipation thrums through every vein as he leaves his guest chamber in his robe and nightrail and heads for her room.

Therese sits at her small dressing table brushing out hair, it tumbles in waves down her spine after being confined in braids all day. Her wedding band glints in the candle light, nestled next to the huge ruby betrothal ring Bastian gave her the night she agreed to marry him. It was his mother's and a family heirloom, she is the fourth Countess to wear it, she's still admiring it when the quiet knock on her chamber door draws her attention back.

The door opens to admit her husband, her heart exults in the word, Bastian is wearing a rich red silk robe, but his feet are bare and Therese glimpses a tantalisingly small amount of bare skin at his throat.

_"Our wedding night Therese . . . may I come to you?" _His voice is low, seductive, and she is his now, free to give herself to him as they both desire.

She nods, and he comes fully into the room, turning he locks the door behind him. Bastian crosses the room and reaching for his brides hand he pulls her to her feet and into his arms. Looking down into her face, he smiles his heart-stopping smile and the pure joy dancing in the depths of his dark eyes sets her heart aflame.

_"I love you Sebastian Berkley."_ She tells him.

The powerful arms circling her band tighter still, pulling her hard against the solid wall of his chest, through her robe and his she can feel his body's arousal.

_"You are mine Therese Berkley."_ He replies. _"Come to bed, let me make love to you sweetheart, let me show you how much I need you."_

Therese stretches upwards on her toes, capturing his mouth and answering him with wicked, wanton kisses, until his control is smoking around the edges and he sweeps her up and carries her to the bed, discarding his robe and his nightrail in a rapid flurry of movement and then following her down, pinning her beneath his naked form as he trails hot open-mouthed kisses down her neck.

Therese arches under him, her body greedy for more. Her husband stops kissing her neck and smiles down at her, pleased at her response to him, she's wearing a sensible cotton nightdress, buttoned to the neck, it covers everything and yet it's somehow the most erotic thing he's ever seen. Straddling her waist he frees one button after the next until the gown gapes down her middle, he parts the two halves, exposing her body, her beautiful rose-tipped breasts to his gaze.

_"You are so beautiful Therese . . . you are the loveliest woman I've ever known."_

He plants kisses down her naked chest, he worships each breast, pulling the nipple into the wet cavern of his mouth, suckling hard until she cries out in pleasure.

Raising her arms he pulls the nightgown up and off and flings it forgotten to join his robe on the floor. Wicked knowing fingers tease and possess the secret places between her thighs and hot liquid silk tells Bastian she is exquisitely ready for him, gently he presses her thighs wide, settling himself between them he kisses her demandingly once more. He's burning from within, desperately clinging to the remnants of his civilized self, his wife is a virgin and though he wants to simply take her, the thought of hurting her truly scares him.

Beneath him Therese arches again, aware as never before of the empty place within her crying out for him, crying out to hold him, she wonders what he's waiting for.

Eyes black with need stare into hers, his voice is strained, contorted by his desire. _"Are you sure my love . . . I don't want to hurt you, but there is no helping it this time I think. If you want me to stop, you have only to say."_

She replies with a smile and her body, undulating she caresses him, feeling the blunt head of his manhood stroke against her wetness.

_"Please Bastian . . . don't stop, I want you so much."_

He rocks against her, positioning himself at the entrance to her body, he eases himself inside her, distracting her with passionate kisses, hoping the pressure of the steely invasion at her core does not hurt her too badly. He keeps pressing onwards though and exults when suddenly the resistance ends, her body yields and she becomes wholly his.

Beneath him Therese's eyes are shut tight, he holds still, letting her adjust to him, ruthlessly he clamps down on his desire to move, her eyes flutter open and the smile she graces him with makes his heart hammer in his chest.

_"Are you alright my love? Did I hurt you?" _He whispers.

Her smile widens. _"A little hurt is all, and I am yours now . . . am I not my Lord?" _Trembling fingers caress his face.

Bastian's answering smile is positively smug. _"You were always mine . . . always will be mine . . . forever my love . . . in this life, and the next."_

Passion and nature take over, they move as one, in a dance as old as time their rhythm deep and sure. Their endless love wells up from within them, and they soar together, forever bound, one to the other. Finally they collapse together, surrendering, completely sated to exhausted slumber.


	27. Chapter 27

Authors Note: Forgive the wait for this chapter, I lost my dog this week and my heart is broken. Writing has once again been therapy though, and I hope you like this chapter.

Chapter Twenty Six: What you've been waiting for.

Berkley Castle, England

December 2010.

The day of the annual Berkley Ball has finally arrived and all over the castle the holiday spirit and the anticipation of a glorious evening are contagious.

The English winter weather has remained unseasonably cold, not allowing the remaining snow to melt away, but as no further snow has fallen the countryside keeps its perfect postcard appearance and the roads though slick and icy are clear and passable. Good job to as the castle is close to major arterial roads but still requires that you drive several miles of country lanes to reach it.

All in all, everything is perfectly poised for the event of the season, and Brennan finds she has for the most part managed to shake off her melancholy and enter into the spirit of the event in full. All of the issues back at home are still waiting for her she knows, but here at Berkley she has found this bubble of peace and harmony that she knows she will be very reluctant to leave when the holidays are over.

She anticipates missing Richard most of all when it comes time for her to leave, in the few short weeks they have known each other they've bonded more than she would have believed possible. She doesn't usually make friends this easily and yet she does not hesitate to think of him as her friend, nor does she intend to let that friendship slide when she goes home. Already in her mind she is resolved to return to Berkley next summer, and she will extend an invitation to Richard to visit her in D.C before she heads stateside once more.

She smiles to herself, there are so many great things to see in D.C, the Jeffersonian in her mind being chief among them, and she is of course uniquely qualified to show it to him.

Thinking of Richard makes her pause, he's been mysteriously busy all day. Originally they'd made plans to have lunch today and then she was going to accompany him on his final walk-thru in preparation for the Ball. This morning he called her in her room to tell her something had come up with staffing for tonight and that he was stuck in his office sorting it out, she stopped by to say 'Hi' and he was no where to be found. Still, as far as she is aware he's coming to collect her from her room at six thirty tonight, the Ball is scheduled to begin at seven, but there are drinks and appetizers before hand.

Her beautiful regency gown hangs waiting on the door of her chamber wardrobe; she has tiny pearl tipped hair pins and some white flowers to tuck into her hair. She didn't bring much in the way of jewelry with her, so she purchased a simple seed pearl choker in Bristol, which fits with her gown exactly. She's all set really, she just needs to change. Checking the time on her wrist watch she sees it's getting on, she's got a couple hours remaining until Richard comes to collect her, time for a soak in the tub before she transforms herself into a living portrait of Therese.

In the opposite wing of the castle where Richard Berkley resides, he is busy supervising the final alterations being made to the regency clothing he has donated to Booth. Luckily both men are the same height, but Booth is broader across the chest and shoulders and slightly narrower at the waist. As Richard has been hosting this event for many years, he's acquired in that span of time several complete outfits fit for a regency period Earl, and finding something that could be altered to fit Booth was not a problem. The castle's head housekeeper is handy with a sewing machine and as Richard steps back to admire the final effect, he concludes that Booth looks like his clothes were tailored specifically for him.

"_You do Sebastian Berkley proud Agent Booth, it's like you've stepped right out of the family portrait and the infamous seventh Earl lives again. I'm impressed."_

Booth stands in front of a free-standing ornate antique full length mirror and turns slowly around admiring the clothes for himself. In his wildest dreams he never could have imagined seeing himself garbed in this fashion, but he has to admit that now he's top to toe – including his polished hessian boots – in regency period wear he can feel the sense of history for himself. He doesn't look half bad in fact, the style actually suits him. His black fitted dinner jacket emphasizes his broad shoulders and narrow waist, the snowy ivory/white dress shirt and simply tied cravat are understated elegance. The tight fitting trousers are molded to his powerful thighs, it takes some getting used to, but the long dark boots help somewhat and combined they make him look even taller than his six foot one inches.

Smiling, Booth turns his back on the mirror and holds out his hand to Richard Berkley, the Earl's face breaks into an answering grin and he clasps the proffered hand warmly.

"_Thank you Richard. For all of this and for being there for Bones when she needed someone . . . I owe you, and I'll never forget that."_

Richard shakes his head. _"Neither of you owes me anything Agent Booth. Temperance is an extraordinary woman who has gifted me with her friendship. To see her happy, to witness the sadness banished from her eyes . . . the thought of this renews my somewhat battered faith in love. What exists between the two of you . . . cherish it Agent Booth. Those of us still searching for it envy you what you have."_

Booth nods slowly. _"You can call me Booth, Richard; and I can promise you this . . . I won't fail her again, even if she isn't ready to forgive me yet, even if I can't repair all the damage I've done at once. I'll wait for her this time, as long as it takes."_

Looking thoughtful Richard says. _"You've come all this way to put it right, that WILL count for something, just as it did two hundred years ago when Sebastian went after Therese. Stick to the truth Booth . . . the whole ugly messed up truth, because buried in that truth is the reality of your love for her, and the fact that your heart never really waivered, despite all appearances to the contrary."_

Taking a deep breath Booth check his wrist watch, there's an hour and a half to go before the Ball begins, then he looks back at his reflection in the mirror. Just tell her the truth . . . the whole ugly messed up truth, he thinks.

"_I will do that."_ He tells both Richard and his reflection. It's not a statement, it's a vow.

Her bath is done, her gown donned, her hair intricately put up and her make-up is flawless. Brennan fastens the seed pearl choker around her neck and then checks the effect in the dressing table mirror. Perfect. She was tempted to don her wrist watch earlier, but it looked so modern against the rest of her costume that it ruined the effect and she's left it off. She picks it up off the dresser to check how much time she has remaining before she should be expecting Richard to collect her, and just as she does so she hears a soft knocking at her chamber door.

She looks over into the full length mirror in the corner and satisfied that she'll wow Richard with the result she crosses the room to admit him. Smiling in eager anticipation of an amazing evening she opens the door and laughs openly at him when he whistles softly and steps backwards to admire her.

"_Temperance . . . you look absolutely stunning my dear. That gown is . . . utter perfection, what an incredible find."_

Brennan twirls slowly to give him the full effect. _"It is gorgeous isn't it?" _She says, a breathtaking smile wreathing her face. _"I've never worn anything that made me feel as beautiful as I feel in this . . . and really I'm completely covered, but I still feel sexy. It's strange don't you think?"_

The Earl shakes his head. _"No not at all. Gowns from this era are incredibly flattering no matter a woman's size or shape; I imagine every woman who wears one feels that. But you do look incredible; you'll be fighting off male admirers tonight."_

Brennan shakes her head. _"All my attention is yours for the evening my Lord. Shall we go?"_

Richard reaches into the pocket of his black dinner jacket, he pulls a small midnight blue velvet pouch out and with a suddenly shy smile he offers it to her. _"I'd like to give you this first Temperance . . . an early Christmas present it seems fitting you should have. And before you say anything, I will not accept a refusal . . . I really want this to belong to you."_

He won't meet her gaze; his eyes remain on his outstretched hand and the pouch. Curious, Brennan reaches out and allows him to place the gift in her hand. With nervous suddenly trembling fingers she loosens the rope closure and reaches inside, her fingers find the contents and carefully she pulls out a small gold brooch with a miniature portrait painted on ivory in the centre. Her breath catches . . . this is a family heirloom . . . this must have belonged to Therese; she can't possibly accept this regardless of Richard's declaration.

"_Richard . . . no."_

The Earl steps closer, takes the brooch from her fingers and pins it to her gown at her shoulder. He steps back to admire the effect, Sebastian's tiny portrait smiles back at him.

"_It was Therese's, a gift from Sebastian on their first anniversary. It sits in a safety deposit box from year to year, never looked at, or loved, or worn, or admired. It will mean something to you as it will to no other woman ever again . . . please Temperance, it should be yours."_

Brennan shakes her head.

"_Really Temperance . . . in a way it's like I'm merely giving it back to it's rightful owner, you are her image remember, and the man in that portrait lives again too."_

Brennan looks down at the brooch; she'll treasure it, for a multitude of reasons, Bastian and Booth both among them.

"_Are you sure Richard . . . if you want it returned to your family at any time you have only to tell me."_

A satisfied smile lights the Earl handsome face. He crooks his arm. _"Now then I am ready to accompany you to the Ball dearest girl. I hope this proves to be one of the best nights of your life." _He says conspiratorially as he leads her towards the main castle stairs, and back through time as they descend.

The lobby is full of people chattering happily and accepting glasses of champagne from appropriately dressed castle catering staff who all look like footmen from two centuries past. Brennan can't keep the smile off her face as the Earl is greeted delightedly by many of the Ball's attendees, and she can't help but notice the admiring glances from every man they meet or the envious looks from all the women as they peruse both her gown and her handsome titled escort. On Richard's arm she feels like a Countess and when the mass of people are called through to the ballroom she and Richard hang back to follow everyone else through, just as if they are hosting together. She's already having enormous fun.

When everyone is gathered in the Ballroom, Richard excuses himself to go and make his welcome speech, a short witty affair that has him back at her side in under five minutes and as the ballroom swells with music, he pulls her out into the centre of the room with him and pulling her into his arms begins the first dance of the night.

The space around them fills immediately with people, but thanks to all of her practicing her steps match precisely with Richards' and laughing together they whirl around the room waltzing energetically.

A quadrille is next and just as Richard had promised an instructor walks everyone through the simple steps from the orchestra stage before the dance begins. By the end of it she's flushed and amazed at how well everything is going, and back on Richards' arm once more she steers him towards the refreshment tables in search of another glass of bubbly.

"_Are you having fun" _He asks her grinning, and handing her a drink.

"_Oh yes. Look around Richard, it's like something out of a fairytale, you should be so proud of yourself and your staff that you pull this off every year. If you came just to admire all the amazing clothes it would be worth it."_

"_Thank you." _

The Earl stops a passing 'footman' carrying a silver salver full of canapes, and they both make a couple of selections to go along with their champagne. In companionable silence they people watch as a cotillion is danced, the ballroom fairly hums with life and laughter, the combination of the festive holiday decorations and the multi-hued gowns of all the women is an enchanted scene, and just as Brennan is thinking how perfect this night is proving to be, the strains of another waltz begin and a voice speaks next to her right out of her dreams.

"_May I have the pleasure of this dance?"_

For the span of a couple of heartbeats she's frozen, beyond surprised she's closer to stunned. She finds herself turning to her left, everything seems inexplicably slowed and her vision narrows until everything on the perifery is blurred, hazy. Her gaze fastens on him, eyes flaring as her senses register the fact that he is actually here. His hand is raised, waiting for her consent, but all she can do is stare at him, taking in his perfectly costumed form, from his boots to his tailored jacket and cravat, even his hair looks different, softer, less formed. He waits patiently, his dark eyes never leaving hers a shy almost uncertain smile on his insanely handsome face.

Another moment passes, finally she finds her voice.

_"Booth?"_

He stifles the urge to simply say 'Hi Bones', instead he calmly repeats his request and hopes his hand isn't shaking.

_"Will you waltz with me Temperance?"_

She looks down at his hand and almost without her conscious volition finds her own hand settling in his warm, sure grasp. She looks back to her right meaning to excuse herself from Richard, but the knowing smile dancing in the Earl's eyes tells her that he's already aware of her partner's incomprehensible appearance. Richard merely makes a shooing motion with his hand and so Brennan turns back towards her partner and when he gives her hand a gentle tug, she allows him to lead her out onto the ballroom floor. He pulls her close, and then suddenly they are dancing, their steps so in sync anyone watching them would automatically assume they'd been waltzing together for years. Maybe they have.

Brennan finds herself aware of Booth's height, of the strength encompassed in his broad, athletic form in a way she's never noticed before. She's seen him naked, and dressed only in his boxers, and yet even then she wasn't as conscious of his sheer, unbridled masculinity as she is right now, whirling effortlessly in his arms. She didn't even know Booth could ballroom dance, but the way he's leading, this is a man who not only knows, but has mastered the dance. As if in answer to her silent question, her partner smiles softly down at her, and leans forward to whisper in her ear.

_"Catholic school Bones . . .learning the waltz was mandatory, and the nuns . . .they were sticklers."_

She finds herself smiling, suddenly picturing a much younger, much smaller Booth concentrating hard as he practiced his steps. His hold on her tightens, he pulls her closer.

_"God I've missed you Bones." _His eyes shutter closed for moment, when they open again they blaze with an emotion she hasn't seen in over a year. She swallows.

_"Why are you here Booth?" _In her heart the answer she longs for blazes, but she's scared to hope, too scared to dream it could be true, if he's only here because he feels guilty, because he wants her to come home for Christmas . . .

He stops dancing, takes her hand firmly in his and pulling her along swiftly behind him he leads her through the milling throng of people and to a door set in the far wall of the ballroom, a door partially covered by a curtain. She's been here before, there's a small conservatory the other side. Booth opens the door, and tugs her through behind him, the door closes and the hum of activity and music from the other side is still audible but muted. The conservatory is a little cold, dimly lit and completely empty.

Booth turns to face her, she can see the tension in his shoulders, the tightness in his jaw. Taking a deep breath she repeats her earlier question.

_"Why are you here Booth?"_

Booth has practiced this conversation a hundred times since the afternoon he broke things off with Hannah, but now that crunch time has arrived everything he planned to say seems empty, inadequate next to the pain he can clearly see now shining in his partner's vivid blue eyes. How did he miss seeing her hurt? Even if she was trying valiantly to conceal her true feelings from him, there must have been moments when her control slipped and the truth shone through, and because he wasn't paying attention he missed it. Seeing it laid bare, seeing her making no attempt to conceal the pain he's been causing her, it cuts right through him, an icepick in his heart. And God she looks beautiful, more beautiful, more ethereal than he's ever seen her.

_"Bones I . . . I am the biggest fool. I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to talk to me again. I promised you I would never betray you, I told you love was eternal and transformative, that you were meant to spend your life with someone, and all the time I meant me, and then when you tested my faith . . . I failed you. I am so sorry I hurt you Temperance. It will never, ever, happen again."_

Brennan can see how shaken he is, and she knows him well enough to know he's truly sorry for hurting her, for letting her down, it doesn't change the reality that is Hannah though.

_"I said no Booth. I screwed things up first . . . and Hannah . . . she's good for you."_

Booth steps closer, takes both her hands in his. That he could be here and she doesn't see that must mean Hannah is gone from his life, he remembers Richard's advice that Brennan needs to hear the entire ugly truth.

_"I've ended things with Hannah, I've come to put things right. The night you rejected me Bones . . . I could tell you it broke my heart but it's worse than that. It broke ME Bones, your refusal, I couldn't see past it to what you were really saying, that you were afraid. That you weren't ready. All I heard was that you didn't want me, and it was like all the hope in me died that night, and all my dreams died with it. I SHOULD have seen what you were really saying, I should have seen your fear . . . should have helped you push past it, but I've never loved someone the way I love you Bones, and I could never love anyone else this way. You are my life Temperance . . . you are the reason I get up every morning. Hannah . . . she wanted me Bones . . . at a time when I was dying slowly she gave me a reason to go on. I'm grateful to her for that . . . but what I felt for her, it's care and it's liking and it's respect, and it's physical attraction . . . but it's not partnership, or need, or desire that will burn eternally, it's not love and it could never be love because every part of my heart is yours Temperance, and there is nothing on earth or in heaven that could ever change that. And I swear to you Bones . . . if it takes me until the day I die to prove to you that I'll be by your side forever, then I'm prepared to wait. I have no choice but to wait, don't you see . . . I can only be with you . . . you're the one Bones. You were, are, always will be . . . the only one."_

Tears well up in Brennan's eyes, her heart feels like it swells in her chest, the despair and the pain that have clouded every moment since she came back from Maluku evaporate like sea mist under a relentless summer sun. Looking up into Booth's deep chocolate gaze she sees her love for him reflected back ten-fold and nothing matters but that he's come for her, that he loves her, that her future can always hold him. Stretching up she brushes her mouth over his, Booth gasps and then his mouth comes down possessively over hers and clinging to him , Brennan feels everything in her world shift and correct itself, as life's path comes right.


	28. Chapter 28

Authors Note: I have been much delayed in updating this as I work in Hospitality as a manager and this is a really busy period for us, add to that two children and a husband and you have my life ;) – once I again I ask you to forgive me for the delay.

Chapter Twenty Seven: Home to Berkley.

Pedler's Inn

Dumfries, Scotland

Dec 1816

Therese wakens to find herself held, enclosed in strong bare masculine arms and her face pillowed on her husband's chest. From the deep even breaths under cheek she surmises Bastian is still in slumber.

Careful not to disturb him she stretches a little, breathes in his warm comforting scent and smiles a sated, delighted smile; one the sheer exhilarating joy of her wedding night put there, she is happier than she has ever been before.

Propping herself up on one elbow she studies Bastian's sleeping features, though she knows his face better than any other his beauty still has the power to stun her. That this incredible man loves her more than life she knows to her marrow now, but that she should be lucky enough to have been gifted with it, this she knows will continue to amaze her until the day she dies.

"_You're staring at me."_ Bastian speaks with a smile in his voice and without opening his eyes.

Therese laughs softly. _"I am . . . I may never stop."_

Dark eyes open and Therese sees the love and happiness glowing in their depths. He tightens his grip, and remaining on his back he pulls her up and over him, settling her straddling his waist, she can feel the hot hard length of him against her bottom. Grinning at him she leans down to kiss him tenderly. The kiss deepens almost immediately, the passion between them flaring and cascading through them both leaving them greedy, grasping, lost in each other.

Bastian's hands grip her waist and lift her, he shifts beneath her, positioning himself so she can slide down upon him, enclosing his yearning body within her heat. He lets out a sigh of complete contentment when he is fully seated inside her.

"_God I love you." _He whispers.

"_I know."_ She responds, lifting up at his gentle urging before sliding back down again. _"I love you too . . . more than you know."_

He sits up to kiss her, and there is no further talking, just urgency and desire and the force fueled by them. They give themselves over to that power, let it shimmer between them, fully acknowledged, binding them ever more tightly each moment.

They are very late to breakfast, but Robert and Amelia pretend not to notice.

Amelia has kindly prepared a feast, remembering how ravenous she was after her own wedding night. Together everyone dines companionably talking about how beautiful the previous day was and how excited they all are to be journeying to Berkley for a traditional family Christmas.

Noticing the eager anticipation on everyone's faces, Bastian smiles inwardly, knowing that his beloved Berkley will soon be filled with hustle, bustle and laughter as the full spirit of the season descends upon it.

Berkley is both beautiful and serene at any time of the year, but Bastian remembers the Christmases of his childhood, when his mother and father would fill the castle with extended family and celebrate the joys of living and of the season properly. Once his mother had passed away and his father had married Alathea, things had gone rather differently, and though Christmas was always festive, the joys of sharing it with a large group were lost. He looks forward now to changing things back, to making each Christmas special as he and Therese add to their family and encourage all those closest to them to come to Berkley and celebrate together.

He has already sent invitations to Alastair and all his other cousins, aunts and uncles to gather at Berkley in five days for the holidays and to celebrate his wedding. He figures most of them will accept for he is the head of the family and now that he has his Countess secured, it is only fitting that everyone come and pay their respects to his bride. Before he married her they might have aired an opinion, but now that Therese is his wife they would not dare question his decision, at least not openly. Not that he cares a jot for their opinions actually, but he knows that in time Therese's grace, intelligence and kindness will make her such a perfect Countess of Gloucester that even the harshest of his relatives will come around.

And he did make them miss the wedding in his haste, so it seems only right he now give them all the chance to see his happiness and to celebrate it.

They leave the Inn early afternoon. Bastian has hired a large, comfortable covered carriage to transport Robert, Amelia and their daughters, he and Therese will travel back in their own finely appointed vehicle. The hirelings managing the Inn in Robert's absence are well known locals being paid very handsomely for their trouble as the family is not expected to return to Dumfries until after the New Year.

His new nieces are giddy with excitement and Bastian finds himself remembering his sister's at that age, resolving to find some fine gifts for the girls' en-route he thinks that nothing could be nicer than to have children to indulge at this time of the year, and he secretly wishes that by next Christmas he and Therese might be blessed with a baby. As he glances over at his new bride, smiling softly as she watches the city roll by outside the carriage window, his own smile turns positively wicked as he concludes that begetting the child will be a reward in itself. He intends to be very earnest in his pursuit of heirs.

Therese catches the smile and wonders if her beloved Earl's thoughts are travelling in a similar vein to her own, when he reaches for her and seats her across his lap, unbuttoning her cloak and reaching for the laces closing her bodice as he covers her lips with his, she finds her question answered in the affirmative.

It proves to be an exhilarating and creative journey.

They arrive at Berkley in the early afternoon four days later.

The carriages turn onto the mile long driveway to the castle and the familiar landscape brings a sudden rush of fond warm memories to Therese. She has missed Berkley more than she could ever have dreamed, and knowing that it will forever be her home now, that she will never need to contemplate saying goodbye to it again, it is no small joy.

The castle itself comes into view and Therese can see the staff lined up waiting to greet them, shooting a questioning glance at Bastian she raises her eyebrows.

"_I sent word when to expect us of course." _He answers with amusement. Reaching across the carriage for her hand he raises it to his lips and plants a soft kiss on the inside of her wrist. _"Welcome home Countess." _He says eyes lit with delight.

Her title, she concludes will take some getting used to.

Bastian exits the carriage first as a footman leaps to open the door for him, he looks over at the following carriage and sees that his staff are ready to greet his guests, then reaching back into the carriage he hands his wife down.

Therese takes a deep breath wondering how all these people she's known only as almost one of the staff herself, will take to her now that she is their mistress. Will they resent her?

Looking over the sea of faces ready to greet them she finds only genuine welcoming smiles on every face, smiles of happy approval and her fears vanish.

Dobbs, Bastian's erstwhile Butler steps forward, bowing formally he winks at her as he straightens.

"_Welcome home my Lord, welcome home my lady." _ The words ring with a warmth not usually heard in the Butler's normally somber baritone.

Bastian smiles, then raises his voice to be heard by all.

"_Thank you everyone for turning out to welcome us home. As you all know I left you a broken man in search of the woman who brings meaning to my life, and as you see, I have returned to you whole and happy with a bride by my side. I present to you all, your new mistress, Therese Berkley, the Countess of Gloucester. I ask you to make her welcome, to serve her as you have always served me. Thank you."_

A cheer goes up and stunned Therese looks over the faces once more, she can detect not a hint of censure or disapproval and she is about to thank everyone when she is ambushed by twin tornadoes.

Eliza and Alicia Berkley plaster themselves one to each side of her and sandwiched thus she is squeezed tightly.

"_Therese we have missed you so, so much . . . thank God you've come back." _Alicia's eyes shine with tears of joy and Therese finds her own filling up. She has missed Bastian's sisters very much, more than she even realized now that she sees them again. She plants a soft kiss of welcome on each girl's forehead.

"_We don't think Bastian could possibly have picked a better sister for us, do we Lissy?" _Eliza smiles up at Therese, and Therese smiles warmly back, the girls are obviously delighted by their brothers' decision to marry her, but what of their mother?

As if summoned by Therese's thoughts, Alathea Berkley herself appears on the castle entrance steps, she looks over the gathered staff, looks over the second carriage and momentarily frowns as she eyes Robert, Amelia and the girls, their clothing clearly is not as fine as her own and the dowager is well known for looking down her nose at her social inferiors. Therese watches the emotions clearly play out over Alathea's face and then to her surprise her expression changes to one more welcoming, she descends the entrance stairs and makes her way over to where Therese stands, and arm still around each twin.

Therese waits to see what Alathea will say, she senses Bastian bristling as he strides over to stand next to her.

"_Welcome home Therese, Bastian. I offer you my congratulations on your wedding."_

Startled, Therese is not sure how to reply, Bastian beats her to it.

"_Thank you Alathea. As you see we have brought my wife's family with us to celebrate Christmas, I trust you will join us at the castle for all the festivities?"_

Alathea manages what looks like a very grateful smile, clearly she feared NOT being invited to partake in the family gathering and Therese understands suddenly that during her disappearance to Scotland, Alathea has not faired well at Bastian's hand. She makes a mental note to talk to him about it, she cannot blame Alathea for thinking and acting as she has, she's been brought up and has lived all her life among the aristocracy and the way they traditionally do things. Alathea deserves the chance to see them together, and to give them her genuine blessing on their marriage, not one that has been coerced out of her.

'_Thank you Bastian, I shall be very happy to join you all."_ Alathea turns to Therese, _"If I can be of any help to you as you settle into your new role as Countess . . . I hope you will feel free to ask Therese, but I respect that this is your household to run now. If you will both excuse me, I will greet your family, and retire to the Dower House."_

Therese sends her husband a pleading look. Bastian rolls his eyes, but translates it very well.

"_You will join us for dinner of course Alathea?"_ He asks her.

The dowager smiles gratefully again and nods her acceptance.

Bastian turns his attention back to his bride, and his smile turns decidedly wolfish, it's a look Therese is learning to recognize.

"_Bastian?"_ She asks, voice trembling nervously.

Her husband's smile only widens and he bends, scooping her into his arms to another cheer from the entire watching staff. He strides carrying her effortlessly towards the stairs and climbing them he sweeps his bride over the threshold and into the castle.

Therese wraps her arms happily around his neck and laughs joyfully, she is finally home at Berkley once more.


	29. Chapter 29

Author's Note: God, what an episode - ie The Doctor in the Photo. Phew . . . angst and heartbreak and sorry but WTF Booth? Seriously need to slap you right now. So I give you more happy, because in my world I'm busy putting things right . . . sure hope at some point HH does the same.

Chapter Twenty Eight: The rest of your life.

Berkley Castle, England

December 2010

They don't come up for air for a while. Dueling for control it seems they both let the angst, and the sadness, and the pain of the last year fuel a heated battle to prove to the other one that they're both sorry, so, so, sorry for everything that they've permitted to happen between them.

Their kiss is passionate, and tinged with desperation as if neither of them can quite believe it's actually real.

Finally they break apart, lungs heaving and emotions running high.

"_Bones . . ."_ Booth breathes his name for her. He looks down into her eyes, scans them with his gaze, searching out her feelings. What he sees must reassure him as he gathers her close, burying his face in her hair.

Brennan for her part clings to him as he simply holds her. Trying frantically to sort through the myriad feelings pouring through her she finally just gives herself up to the moment, to the sensation of his body against hers, strong, hard muscles holding her tightly. It feels like she's waited forever, all her life for this moment, right now, when she feels connected to life, to the rest of humanity, a part of it. All her life it seems she's held herself back, an observer, rarely a participant; for many years she's prided herself on this part of her nature, that it allows her the freedom to always be objective. She's feared losing it, not seeing that there could a separation of her personal and professional sides, a separation she can see now is possible. For she is not capable of being objective about Booth, and what he is and all he means to her.

But she is capable of being herself, her professional scientist self, and still being a woman in love with a man who despite his faults will forever be the perfect man in her eyes.

The man she wants, for tonight, tomorrow night, every night, always.

Booth is still hers . . . and she thinks that this simple thought, that this man is mine, wants to be mine, this simple fact makes all of life extraordinary, makes everything she wants of life possible once more.

Fleetingly she thinks of Hannah Burley, feels a sense of empathy, she lost him herself, has been living with that loss since she came home from Maluku and was forced into a reality where she couldn't claim him as hers. It's been awful, she wouldn't wish those feelings on anyone, hopes Hannah is alright. And on the heels of this knows they need to talk this out properly, even though she knows they are okay, or will be okay, all the hurt must be aired, if they are to heal. Inwardly smiling she realizes that her thoughts are coming to her in Dr. Sweet's voice. She thinks Sweets would be proud.

Gently she pulls back from Booth's iron grip on her, she can feel the momentary tension in his frame as he reluctantly let's her go. Smiling up at him, she reaches for his face, caresses the side of it with her hand, then looking around the conservatory she spies an old wooden bench placed in front of the windows; she grabs Booth's hand and tugs him toward it.

"_Sit."_ She tells him, before she detangles her hand from his and stands in front of him, she smiles at him again, self-deprecatingly and then she paces, trying to find the words in her vast vocabulary to be as honest with him as he's been with her.

Eventually the words come.

"_I love you." _She begins. Knowing that more than anything else, these are the three words he needs to hear her speak at this moment – he knows of course that she does, but it is still important to say it.

"_I know now that I've always loved you Booth, even when I didn't believe 'love' was real, when I labeled it blood chemistry and deemed it meaningless in so many ways, even then, somewhere inside, love for you lived."_

Booth's face breaks into a traffic-stopping smile, but he says nothing.

"_I regret more than I could ever explain that I refused to take a chance when you asked it of me. Regret is pointless, useless, but I regret those words I spoke more than any other I've ever uttered. Believe me when I tell you that I had no concept of what those words would cost us both. I wanted you, I wanted to be with you, but in that moment when what I wanted was offered to me, when it was right there for the taking, I panicked. What we already had was everything to me, to risk it for more and thus risk losing it; it was in that moment a risk I didn't know how to take. In Maluku, away from you, all I wanted was to be back home again, back being your partner and what you'd told me, about you moving on, I didn't think about that at all, it was like I hadn't heard you say it. When we both came home and everything was different because you had Hannah, it was only then that I truly saw what I'd done. How big a mistake I'd made. These last few months, I've tried so hard to be happy for you, some days I succeeded in convincing myself I was, but the truth is these last few months have been incredibly painful for me Booth. To see you all the time with her, to believe I'd lost you, I blamed myself, I held myself responsible for my own pain, but I blamed you too Booth, I did. I blamed you for bailing on me, for being like everyone else."_

Booth's smile turns into an expression of pain. _"I should have fought harder; you have every right to blame me for that Bones."_

Brennan nods. _"You've always understood me Booth, always seemed to know me better than I know myself. I wish you hadn't picked that night outside the Hoover building to stop, but I understand what happened better now, and in the end here we stand."_

"_You'll forgive me?"_ She's surprised, but she hears the question in his voice, this is a question for him, this is not a statement.

"_I love you . . . unconditionally Booth."_

The traffic-stopping smile returns, even wider, brighter, his dark eyes glow with an emotion so intense it's almost blinding to look at it.

"_As I love you; I swear to you I'll never give you cause to doubt it again." _He replies.

Brennan takes a deep, cleansing breath allows a moment for the sincerity she can hear behind his words to sink into her soul. _"This trip of mine to England, I didn't really plan it, I guess you would tell me I was acting on my gut, but the opportunity arose and a break from seeing you with her was suddenly all I could think about. This trip was about me Booth, I need you to understand that I was not trying to force you into anything, I wasn't asking anything of you, I just needed to be somewhere new, somewhere I knew nobody and therefore no-one would be asking anything of me. And this trip Booth, it's been so remarkable, I have so much to tell you about this place and how much it's come to mean to me."_

She notices a suddenly sheepish look cross his face fleetingly; knowing him so well the reason is obvious.

"_You know . . . don't you . . . about Sebastian and Therese? How?" _ She asks.

Booth is about to explain when Brennan answers her own question.

"_Angela!"_ She says with something akin to disgust coloring her words. _"Angela told you about them didn't she?"_

Booth grabs her hand to stop her mid pace. _"Angela did only what she thought was best Bones. She loves you; she's been worrying about you. She told me about them and then she told me that you wouldn't be sharing your discovery with me, when you said nothing to me, she told me that was because sharing their love story with me was too painful in light of their incredible resemblance to the two of us. To tell me about that likeness you had to explain who they were, explain their relationship, their history, Ang said you couldn't do that because my relationship with Hannah stood in the way. How could we discuss their forever kind of love without seeing the damage we'd done to our own relationship?"_

Brennan nods miserably. _"Looking at them, learning about who they were, how they lived, the life they shared. I looked at them and saw all I wanted for myself, all I feared I would never have now. Their path to each other wasn't easy Booth, there were obstacles in their way, but what made it impossible to talk to you about them was Bastian himself. Bastian who never once waivered in his pursuit of Therese, who when she abandoned him, committed his life to finding her once again. He turned his back on his family obligation to marry and produce an heir, something inconceivable considering his position in society back then. He followed his heart and remained faithful to his goal and it was this dogged determination, this devotion in the face of adversity that finally convinced Therese to marry him. How could I tell you about that . . . " _Her voice breaks, Booth continues for her.

"_When I'd done the opposite and quit on you when you needed me to have faith enough for the both of us."_

Brennan nods, a single tear escaping her right eye and making it's way painfully slowly down her cheek. The sight of it, of all her pain encompassed in a single tiny teardrop, undoes him. Booth bolts up from the bench and pulls her into his arms again by the hand he'd been holding. He hugs her hard, wrapping his arms solidly around her and pulling her head against the wall of his chest, the feel of her so incredibly familiar, so right in his arms. Holding her has always brought with it that sense of rightness, of completion, a feeling that has never been there with any other woman, no matter his physical attraction to them. He didn't realize until this moment how much he's missed it, this perfect sense of belonging that Bones brings him.

Booth wonders if there was ever a bigger fool than he's been.

He talks to her over her head, refusing to let her go of her even to see into her face.

"_I get now why you didn't tell me about them. I was hurt that you didn't share Bones, I kept trying to understand why you hadn't said anything . . . I can see so clearly now that I should have figured it out. I'm not here because anyone pressured me Bones, I didn't come after you because Hannah left me or anything. Ang did tell me about them and she did tell me why you wouldn't share gotta say she nailed it apparently with that freaky intuition of hers. I did go to see Avalon, because Ang told Avalon about our regency doppelgangers', and Avalon shook me up with what she told me, that I'd screwed up both our futures and she demanded to know what the hell I'd done."_

Brennan manages a soft laugh, that he feels break from her rather than hears, her head is still down and buried against his chest. When she says nothing, he continues on.

"_Let me tell you that she was not impressed when I said I'd just given you what you wanted, she tore me a new one. Then Cam and Angela called me over to the Jeffersonian one afternoon and staged an 'intervention', they sat me down and forced me to look, really look hard at what I'd been doing, forced me to answer – to myself – some key questions, and when I did, the answer to everything was you Bones. You were still what I wanted; you were still the one I loved. I wasn't over you, I'd never be over you, and I couldn't be just your friend, I certainly couldn't continue to be in a romantic relationship with someone else, that wasn't fair to anyone, most especially Hannah. And when I broke it off with Hannah she knew it too, like everyone else always does she'd seen and realized what we are Bones, what we have, and she wished us happy Bones . . . she wished you happy."_

At this Brennan raises her head, her eyes are watery but Booth is relieved to see no more tears have escaped, watching her cry kills him every time.

"_Is Hannah okay Booth?" _She asks quietly.

Booth smiles gently. _"Yeah, she's okay Bones, I hurt her obviously, but that's my responsibility, not yours, okay?"_

Brennan nods, what's done is done, and the rest of her life is still waiting.

"_All that matters is the future Bones, our future and what we want to do with it. I'm here because I still want to take that chance Bones, on us, on all that's between us. I want that chance so badly, to explore all we can be together, all we could have. So I'm asking you again Temperance Brennan . . . will you take a chance on this . . . on us?"_

Easy question she thinks, and he knows the answer surely?

"_Yes. I will Booth, of course I will. I want it just as badly as you do; my commitment is just as strong."_

Booth lowers his mouth as Brennan stretches up. This kiss is completely different from the first. This kiss has none of the desperation, none of the angst, none of the pain. It's slow and deep and thorough. A communion of the commitment made between them. This kiss is all about the love they feel for each other, about the power of it, the unshakable reality of it. This kiss grounds them, binds them, and frees them from the events of the past year. It's a beginning and yet it's merely a continuation of what has always existed between them from the first day they met. It fills them both with a simple acknowledgement, that each feels bone deep, that their love is as Sebastian and Therese's . . . the forever kind.

When it ends they are both smiling, silly, almost giddy grins wreath both their faces.

"_We should get back to the Ball now don't you think?" _Brennan asks him.

Booth inclines his head in agreement. _"Will you dance with me again my lady?"_

Brennan takes his arm, and pulls him back towards the door to the conservatory; she opens it and pulls him through.

Reaching the dance floor she see's another waltz is in progress and so she curtsy's to Booth, then straightens and waits for him to pull her into his arms, he does so immediately and then he whirls them both back into the fray.

From the far side of the ballroom, Richard Berkley watches them reappear from the conservatory and seeing them both look like a great weight has been removed from their shoulders he smiles both inwardly and outwardly. The Earl turns to look up at the bust of his ancestor Sebastian in the stone alcove behind him and raising his glass to Bastian he says conversationally, _"Looks like you found her again old chap . . . I wish you both as happy this time as last."_


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter Twenty Nine: A Castle Christmas 1816

Berkley Castle, England

December, 1816

Dinner their first night home - Therese's first night as mistress of Berkley – was in the end a total success held in the castle's large formal dining room even though the nine people attending it could easily have fit into the dining parlor the family usually chose to use when dining 'en-famille'.

The castle servants, gearing up for a busy Christmas and the guests that would shortly be arriving, had chosen to impress their master and more importantly their new mistress by going all-out with the finest of the castle's linens, flat wear and china. Gleaming candle holders containing festive red candles decked the full length of the huge mahogany table; table runners of red silk complemented the crisp white of the table cloths. Elegant bone china with gold painted rims and silverware lovingly polished shone in the warm light.

Therese, gowned in pale gold herself looked truly every inch the Countess she now was, and entering the dining room on Bastian's arm she surveyed the room's finery with a pleased eye and happy smile. Watching the awed expressions on her niece's little faces as they scampered into the room with Robert and Amelia made her smile widen further. Robert made a respectable living keeping the inn in Dumfries, but with their aunt so well married, and Bastian already adoring the pair of them, Therese knew she would be able to provide dowries for both girls that would be sufficient to see them both settled very comfortably when the time came. To be able to be of assistance to these two little poppet's whom she's come to love very much, is an unexpected blessing she is very grateful for.

Alathea and her daughters take their seats, for one moment Therese wonders why Alathea has not taken her customary spot at the head of the table opposite Bastian, and then of course she realizes that seat is now hers by right. Taking a fortifying breath to calm her suddenly rampant nerves Therese risks a glance at Alathea, the dowager feels her gaze and the encouraging smile that lights her normally haughty features eases Therese's nerves considerably. She cannot imagine what forces Bastian brought to bear to extract such seemingly humble overtures of encouragement from the Dowager, she knows that Alathea in her heart still disapproves of their marriage; and yet it seems that Alathea is not going to cause any trouble and may even be a source of help to Therese in assuming her new role. Therese decides to be content with that, and with the opportunity to prove herself worthy of her new position in her step-mother-in-law's eyes.

Dinner is served, and to Therese's further surprise and delight Alathea not only converses with Robert and Amelia, but invites them to afternoon tea at the Dower House the following afternoon, along with their children. Once this invitation has been extended and graciously accepted, dinner proceeds to become an extremely lively and laughter filled affair. Robert is particularly amusing, and Therese notes fondly that the ready acceptance her family has been shown thus far by Bastian, his servants and his family has managed to ease any perceived 'poor-relation' status that Robert and Amelia might have feared enjoying. Her husband clearly sees Robert as a close friend already, whatever occurred between them when Robert went in search of Bastian and brought him north has clearly bonded the two men she holds most dear to her.

Dinner is very fine, the very best of everything. Roast pheasant, roast duck an entire medley of seasonal vegetables with roast potatoes and a rich hearty sauce. A trout terrine to begin and a homemade treacle tart with clotted cream to finish. Fine wine to accompany everything and for once the men decide not to linger over their port while the women retire ahead of them to the drawing room, so everyone leaves the table together to gather around the huge drawing room fireplace and talk over tea and biscuits.

Therese is stuffed to the gills and enormously sleepy by the time Bastian makes their goodnights for the both of them and steers her up the huge staircase towards their chambers.

Therese's new apartments are spacious and beautiful, but decoratively more to their former occupants' style than her own more simple tastes, still as Bastian pulls her into the Earl's apartments instead of her own she protests.

"_Are you not coming to my bed? Why are we in your rooms?" _She mumbles through a yawn that has Bastian's eyes crinkling at the edges.

"_Because we are to sleep in my bed my love, the Earl's bed, where you shall spend all your nights from here on in."_

Shocked . . . she had assumed Bastian would join her in her bed whenever he wished, but that his own bed . . . she stares at him in confusion . . . maybe she's wrong about how these things are done?

Noting the question in his wife's eyes and interpreting her query correctly the Earl allows his smile to grow heated, wicked, even as his eyes fill with love, tenderness, devotion.

"_It's not that unusual for a wife to join her husband in his apartments you know, and while your apartments will contain all your things, your clothes; this is where you will sleep, Therese. I don't ever wish to spend a night without you, that might be how some marriages are conducted, but ours is a love-match, I need you with me."_

He pulls her close, flush against him, arms tightening around her; imprisoning her inescapably he kisses her back to full awareness, every ounce of drowsiness evaporates under his onslaught.

"_Do you understand?" _He asks her, breaking from the kiss only to leave his lips hovering millimeters from hers.

She understands, of course she does. Smiling up at him the understanding shines in the depths of her eyes. Their separation. For him to spend even a single night alone now it brings back such painful memories that he will not countenance it; this is just another way he shows her every moment how great his love for her truly is.

"_Then we shall sleep here, my apartments are, after all only a few doors away." _She says.

Her husband inwardly sighs in relief that Therese is so willing to accommodate his rampant need to keep her within arms reach at night. Maybe this need will fade over time, but he seriously doubts it.

He kisses her again and there is no more need for talking, this is their first night at Berkley as husband and wife; their first time in the giant bed their children will be conceived in. They shed their clothes with the minimum amount of fuss possible, and then they are skin against heated skin, Bastian lifts her and tosses her onto his bed only to immediately follow her down, covering her body with his. He pushes her thighs wide, joining them with a single masterful thrust, a contented sigh escaping him as he's welcomed home.

They sleep late again.

The day that follows sees Bastian's family arriving en-masse and carefully controlled chaos as suitable accommodations are arranged to suit everyone's needs. Therese spends most of the day on Bastian's arm, greeting each arrival with a nervous smile and patiently putting up with the discrete but evident scrutiny.

She can almost hear their thoughts as they smile at Sebastian, deferentially acknowledging the head of their family and casting sideways glances at her, taking in her appearance and her demeanor and wondering what it is about this woman exactly that has had such a dramatic effect on one of the ton's foremost rakehells.

She wishes she could explain it to them, but what she and Bastian have, that power that flows between them . . . she doesn't have adequate words to describe it. It's love and friendship but at a higher, deeper, more fundamental level than she could ever have believed was possible before she met him. He is a part of her, she's a part of him, now they know the other exists it's simply too hard to live without each other.

She's his reason to live now, and he is hers. Maybe that simple sentence is all she would need to say.

She watches him with such unalloyed joy as he greets each new member of his extended family. His aunts, uncles, cousins, over thirty people are joining them for this joint celebration of their marriage and Christmas. Bastian has not stopped smiling all day, and she has noticed time and time again the subtle amazement on his relative's faces as he greets them with an open heart and earnest enjoyment that they have come to be with him for the holidays. It's obvious that the last time any of these people saw him it was either before she and Bastian ever met, when he was an unrepentant rogue, or during their separation when he was clearly a broken and stubbornly defiant shell of a man.

She can see them looking at him as he is now, whole, radiantly happy, his natural grace and charm disarming and beguiling everyone around him. These people, they see a marked difference in him, she can tell, it's written in every hesitant smile, and slightly raised eyebrow. In every sideways glance they sneak at her and every genuinely approving smile she suddenly receives.

Bastian's elderly great aunt is the one who makes it clear to her how his family feels, pulling Therese from his side while shushing his protestations she forces Therese to accompany her to her chamber, to see her settled before releasing her to re-join him. As she excuses herself finally to leave great aunt Mildred, the Dowager Viscountess Langley, 'Aunt Millie' as she insists on being called, tells Therese . . .

"_My dear, you are an angel to be congratulated for sure . . . that boy, such a hellion, but clearly he'll do alright now he has you. Why I even believe he'll make a fine father now, and lord knows how anyone could have said that of Bastian Berkley a year ago."_

At the end of the day, she dresses for dinner, artfully pinning her long hair up to make the most of the neckline of her dazzling navy gown, everything has gone so beautifully today and with Christmas the day after tomorrow, all their guests are safely arrived and a with their seeming acceptance of her and her family, a merry holiday season looks assured.

And a blissfully happy, family filled Christmas is exactly what Therese receives.

It snows Christmas Eve, only a little, but it's enough to dust the countryside with white and make the castle seem even homelier than usual. The twins, who have taken a definite shine to little Therese and Christiana, engaging the small children in all manner of games, including helping them build a little snowman on the castle's south lawn; teaching them patiently how to start with a large snowball and roll it around and around until you have collected enough snow to form the body. The twins watch laughing as the two tiny girls perform the same function to form a head. Robert and Bastian donate items of clothing and a pipe, cook supplies coal eyes and a carrot nose.

Everyone comes outside to see, and merrily celebrate the children's amusing accomplishment. As everyone troops back inside to find a fire and a cup of tea, Bastian pulls Therese's arm through his and heads for the stables.

Therese wonders why he wishes to stay out in the cold, but then she remembers dear Nero and suddenly she's the one dragging him.

The large chestnut horse whinnies and stamps his hooves at her approach, and when Therese enters his stall he butts her in the stomach and then pushes his nose into her eager hands. Therese wraps her arms around the horses' neck, as happy to see her equestrian friend as he is her.

Bastian watches their reunion with delight.

"_Your horse is very happy to see you my love." _He tells her.

Therese turns. _"My horse?"_

Bastian nods. _"Merry Christmas Therese."_

Nero is hers?

Therese releases the horse and crosses the stall to throw her arms around Bastian instead. The Earl hugs her tightly, telling her . . .

"_Nero missed you almost as much as I did Therese, and though I have other gifts for you, I knew this was the most fitting one; the one that would bring you the most pleasure."_

Bottomless blue eyes fill with profound happiness, a joy that is reflected in the dark brown eyes looking back. Sebastian lowers his head to kiss his wife in the stables on Christmas Eve, and as Therese kisses him back in the castle their guests begin to sing around the piano, of love, and peace and harmony, eternal.


	31. Chapter 31

**Authors Note: I just want to say a quick thank you again to every person who has taken the time to review this story while it's been underway. Your enthusiasm and encouragement have contributed so much to this story, they've been the fuel to help me get it done, and now that this tale is almost over it seems fitting to wish you all a very MERRY CHRISTMAS, and to give you this chapter as my gift to you all. There is still an epilogue to go of course, but the real pay-off in this tale lies beneath, I hope you enjoy it, and that it's been worth the journey and the wait. Here's to 2011 and to Booth & Brennan, whose love inspires all our stories, may they find a similarly happy ending in canon on the show.**

**Please note the rating change as this chapter is eventually Rated ***M***.**

Chapter Thirty: A Castle Christmas 2010

Berkley Castle, England

December, 2010

She dances the final dance of the evening – the last waltz - with Richard; the dashing Earl spins her around the ballroom, while Booth watches patiently from the sidelines, a glass of champagne in his hand and a fond smile on his face as he watches the two of them and waits for her.

"_Tell me dearest girl . . . has this night proved to be everything you dreamed and more?" _Richard asks her grinning like a delighted small boy on Christmas morning.

Brennan smiles back, and Richard is inwardly stunned at her expression. He's always thought her an incredibly attractive woman, classically beautiful and fiercely intelligent, but the few short weeks he's known her there have always been shadows in her eyes. Small glimpses into the sadness she was carrying around inside, that even a genuine smile or raucous laugh failed to completely banish. As she smiles up at him now her eyes are clear, sparkling, an ocean in which a man could drown, not a trace of pain and sadness remain and her resultant beauty momentarily steals his breath. She's glowing from the inside out and Richard feels a pang, a small pang, but a pang nevertheless that while he hopes they will always remain friends, they can never be more.

"_Tonight has been the most wonderful night of my life Richard." _Brennan tells him with heart-stopping sincerity. _"I can barely believe Booth is here, that I'm not dreaming the whole thing. I really believed my foolish rejection of him might end up costing me everything, and that I'd lose him forever by my own hand. But he's come all this way for me, to be with me. I know you already know he's broken things off with his girlfriend, because you obviously conspired with him in regards to tonight. Thank you Richard, for everything you've done for me . . . and for Booth. I'm so lucky to know you."_

Richard feels himself choke up for a moment, and then he forces the wave of emotion away and stops waltzing to pull her close and hug her tightly. He whispers in her ear as people all around them continue to dance.

"_Your friendship is a gift I will treasure my dear. Your happiness inspires me to begin again to seek my own. Just as Sebastian and Therese have always taught me love could last a lifetime, so you and Booth have renewed my faith. I wish you both a lifetime of joy Temperance, and I make you an offer . . ."_

Brennan pulls back with a query in her eyes. _"An offer?"_

The Earl nods. _"An offer . . . for the future; put it away in your heart and if you ever choose to accept it you have only to let me know. If you and Booth ever decide to marry, I offer you Berkley as a venue . . . on me. I will throw you an amazing wedding Temperance, with the entire castle devoted to celebrating it."_

Brennan looks at him stunned her heart leaping even as her mind tries to reason with her heart and remind her that she doesn't believe in marriage. And yet the thought of marrying Booth sets her heart racing.

"_You don't have to say anything . . . the offer will always be there, yours if you wish it."_

She pulls Richard back into the hug. _"Thank you. If we ever do . . . there is nowhere else I would rather take that step than here."_

The dance ends and so does the Ball. Richard escorts her back to Booth, reaching out to shake Booth's hand firmly before bestowing her hand into her partner's and bowing once formally, the Earl leaves them alone to bid farewell to his other guests. Her arm tucked through Booth's they follow the crowd out of the ballroom and head for the main staircase.

They reach Brennan's chamber door and suddenly their happy mood turns awkward, anxious. Eyes full of contradictions Brennan looks nervously up at Booth and smiles so shyly Booth feels his heart miss a beat.

"_I want to ask you in . . . to stay the night Booth . . . but at the same time I need to adjust to this . . . to assure myself this is reality. Am I making any sense?"_ She asks him.

His hand comes up to cradle her jaw, long strong gentle fingers caress the side of her face, before disappearing into her up-swept hair and pulling her mouth to his with insistent force. He kisses her so softly, so tenderly, without urgency of any kind, and though his body is forcefully reminding him of what he really wants, he also knows better than to rush this. They've waited an eternity for this moment, it has to be right, it has to come about naturally, with room for no regrets about the when or the how later. He breaks the kiss and then bends again impulsively to kiss the tip of her nose. Then he steps back, allowing her space . . . and time.

"_Goodnight Bones. I'll collect you for breakfast in the morning." _With a lazy smile he turns to go, she catches his hand, causing him to turn back.

"_I love you Booth."_

He'll never . . . if he lives to be a hundred and ten years old, get tired of hearing those words fall from her lips.

"_I live for you Bones." _He replies, before he makes a small bow, which seems fitting of his regency persona this evening. Then he raises the hand holding his to his lips, turning her wrist he kisses the sensitive skin on the inside of it, releases her hand and leaving her staring after him he returns to his own room.

Brennan watches him until he turns a corner and then she lets herself into her chamber. She get's ready for bed in a blur, hanging her beautiful gown back up and brushing out her hair automatically. She cleans her teeth and washes her face and pulling on a pair of pajama bottoms and a tank top she falls into her huge bed. Alone. And yet for the first time in over a year the action doesn't bring with it a sense of loneliness and dislocation. Booth is here, he's only a few minutes away. He loves her, and forgives her and wants her forgiveness in return. She may sleep alone tonight, and for more nights after that, but her loneliness is gone, her sense of belonging to something, of being part of something, that's back.

Her dreams that night are happy ones.

As promised Booth arrives to collect her first thing in the morning; he knocks softly on her chamber door, calls for her.

_"Bones it's me . . . you ready to eat?"_

The sound of his warm familiar tones has an unfamiliar effect on Brennan this morning, her heart rate elevates immediately, a fact she notes with a wry smile as she practically runs for the door, ridiculously anxious to see his face. Pulling the door wide she finds Booth waiting looking once more like his normal FBI tough-guy self in a form-fitting black t-shirt and jeans.

His face breaks into a grin and his eyes travel all over her, taking in everything about her before they rise to look right in hers.

_"Morning sunshine."_ He says, reaching out he grabs her wrist and tugs her into his arms, Brennan tips her face up to meet his kiss. Heat flares between them instantly, and sensing things could escalate quickly; Brennan breaks the kiss breathing hard. Laughing she pulls herself out of his embrace, tugs her chamber door closed and grabbing his hand pulls him towards the main stairs. Booth groans loudly and rolls his eyes, but follows her meekly enough, seeing her looking so relaxed and happy with him again is worth a little frustration he thinks.

They dine in comfortable silence, enjoying the buzz of people all around them and when Richard joins them for a final cup of coffee; both are pleased to see him.

"_So tell me Booth . . . Temperance . . . what are your plans now? You've both got rooms reserved through Christmas, am I to take it you'll be staying? Or are you both headed back to the states now that matters between the two of you have been resolved?"_

It's an excellent question.

Brennan looks at Booth with her eyebrows raised, she'd personally love to stay, have a quiet, romantic Christmas here, at Berkley, just the two of them, but she remembers that Booth is supposed to be with Parker, does he want them to leave?

Booth takes a long look at his partner. Her eyebrows are raised, clearly she's waiting on him to make a decision, and suddenly, though things have gone so much better than he dared dream before he came here, their reconciliation, embarking on a romantic aspect to their partnership, it's all so new, so fragile. Though he wants to be with Parker, being with Bones right now is his first priority. He should make that clear, that she comes first he thinks.

"_We'll be staying put Richard." _He says, and the Earl smiles delightedly.

Brennan looks a little shocked. _"Booth are you sure that's okay is Parker . . . "_

Booth reaches across the table and clasps her hand. He looks deep into her eyes and smiles. _"Parker understands I need to put you first right now Bones, and before you say anything I MEAN it. I really need to put you and me, our relationship at the top of my priorities. We've been through a lot to get here Bones; we need to settle into this, to take some time for just us, no outside pressures. Our work, our friends, even Parker, they won't mean to be, but they would be pressure. I just want to spend this time with you . . . alone."_

Brennan squeezes his hand, her eyes lighting up, and he inwardly sighs in relief that he's obviously said the right thing.

Richard chimes in. _"Excellent news. So may I suggest a nice country walk enjoying the remaining snow, and then there are some lovely country pubs within a short drive of here, the roads are pretty clear, excellent food and great beer." _He says, downing his remaining coffee before he gets up to leave them. _"I'll reserve a table here for you two for dinner . . . on me of course. See you both later on."_

They decide almost without talking about it, on taking the Earl's advice. They spend a wonderful day simply enjoying each other. They wrap up warm and walk for miles; hand in hand they catch each other up on everything. They decide on a golden rule, nothing is off-limits discussion wise and with this rule in play they let their conversation take them were it will. Amazingly they don't argue or even bicker at all. So much has happened to them both the last year, so much thinking, soul-searching and missed opportunities and distance, distance most of all, that now instead of arguing, they listen, really, really, listen to what the other has to say. And when they don't particularly agree, they talk it through until there is at least a mutual understanding in place.

At the start of the day they would both have been hard-pushed to think they would know each better, love each other even more by the end of it, but miraculously that's exactly what happens.

They dine that night at the castle, Richard has reserved them an intimate table for two in a secluded corner of the dining room, and they let him be their guide. Richard makes their dinner selections and their wine choice and after splitting dessert because they're too stuffed to eat one each, they retire to the main lounge and sitting in front of a roaring fire they play chess.

Booth wins.

Brennan insists on a re-match, uncertain exactly how Booth managed to beat her, not something that often happens to her, as few people can take her on at this game. Laughing at her endearing frustration, Booth agrees and promptly beats her a second time.

As she topples her king in defeat she stares him in the face, demanding to know with her eyes how he won. Booth roars with laughter and leaning over the board he tugs her lips to his and kisses her.

"_Let it go Bones . . . let's just say Pop's taught me a thing or two about strategy, and it's all about knowing your opponent. Take it as a sign that I know you better than you know yourself in some ways." _He kisses her softly again. _"And that I have a lot still to learn in others."_

There is a question in his voice and burning in his eyes, she can see it, and yet though she can feel the fever rising in her own blood to meet it, she still isn't ready.

"_Soon . . . just . . . soon I promise."_ She tells him.

Booth nods, and when they call it a night he does as he did the night before and walks her to her chamber door. He kisses her goodnight, trying desperately to ignore his baser self and all it's lusting after, and he retires to his own room again.

Their pattern repeats over the next two days.

Booth collects her in the morning with a smile and a kiss, Richard joins them over breakfast and suggests an activity for the day. They explore the countryside, and have lunch in Bristol. Brennan takes Booth to meet 'Molly' her favorite shop assistant, and when Booth isn't looking Molly beams at Brennan and indicates that Booth most definitely get's her seal of approval. They spend a day in Bath, exploring the Roman Baths and the amazing abbey, and then they Christmas shop a little and enjoy the lights and the crowds and each night they return to the castle for dinner and to unwind. Booth walks Brennan to her room each evening, and though their doorstep make-out sessions linger, getting hotter and more frustrating each time, Brennan eventually calls a halt and Booth, ever the gentleman leaves.

Christmas Eve is upon them almost before they realize it, and over breakfast Richard asks them if they would like to join him for the day.

"_What did you have in mind Richard?" _Brennan asks him.

"_I was hoping you'd both agree to accompany me riding . . . that is, of course assuming you both can?" _The Earl looks uncertain.

Almost bouncing in her seat Brennan looks over at Booth. _"I can what about you Booth?"_

Noting his partner's obvious enthusiasm for this idea Booth thanks his lucky stars. _"I haven't done in it in a long time, but I've ridden before, I'm not very proficient but if you've a fairly quiet horse I'm game."_

Richard looks delighted. _"We have large stables here; pony-trekking is a popular summer activity with our guests. Less demand in the winter months obviously, but the horses still need the exercise, and it's cold but sunny today, a gentle little walk down the lane to the south castle field and a quick gallop in the snow will be just the thing for them. I'm sure I can find you a staid old hack Booth, nothing too lively, it'll be enormous fun old boy."_

Booth looks a little unconvinced but he can see Brennan is thrilled about this whole idea for some reason, so if riding today will make her happy he's all for it.

An hour later they are in the stables and borrowing riding helmets from one of the castle's grooms. Suitably attired they walk through the long stables admiring the horses and looking for Richard. Brennan spots him in a stall at the far end and they walk over to join him.

The Earl is busy with a horse's saddle and as she looks the large chestnut horse over Brennan feels the strangest sense of déjà vue wash over and through her.

The horse in the stall looks back at her with quiet patient dark brown eyes, he whinnies and stamps his foot and in her mind Brennan calls him 'Nero'.

She starts when her thought is given voice.

"_Steady Nero, steady old chap."_ Richard speaks softly in sing-song tones as he finishes the last buckle on the saddle and turns to lead the horse out of the stall, stopping and grinning as he finds Booth and Brennan waiting for him. He notices Brennan's eyes are riveted on the horse, and he beckons her over.

"_Temperance . . . meet your mount for the day, and yes I named him 'Nero' in honor of Therese, her diary descriptions of her beloved horse are identical to this laddie . . . so when I bought him he sort of named himself."_

Brennan steps closer and rubs the long soft line of the horse's nose. He's absolutely beautiful in every way and again the sensation of doing something that she's done a hundred times before flows through her. Everything about Berkley seems to conjure this feeling, and she no longer questions it, she just acknowledges it with a small secret smile, filing it away as part of the magic of this place.

Richard hands her the horse's reins and then he strides past Booth to a stall a few doors down. He disappears inside and re-emerges with a large dapple gray gelding for Booth; the Earl walks the horse over to introduce him.

"_Agent Booth . . . meet Caesar . . . he's quiet and gentle even though he's large, he should be perfect taking into consideration that you have not ridden for a long time." _

Booth reaches into his pocket and produces an apple, much to the delight of both Brennan and Caesar. The horse takes the offering swiftly, and much loud crunching later is looking for more. Booth offers the horse a gentle pat and a rub instead before he reaches for the reins, taking them from Richard.

Satisfied that Booth has Caesar securely, Richard call for his groom and his own horse, a large raking black hunter is brought over. Brennan raises a brow and Richard laughs, shaking his head.

Not in on the silent question Booth looks from his partner to his host in confusion.

"_Sebastian had a large black hunting horse named Lucifer, I was wondering if that was also Richard's horse's name Booth."_ Brennan explains.

"_I think I would have been tempted to go with that, but I've had Conqueror here for a decade, before I read any of Therese's diaries myself, but there's always next time." _Richard says with a grin. He takes Conqueror's reins from the castle groom and leads Brennan and Booth across the stable yard to the side castle driveway. Leaping into the saddle with the ease and grace of someone almost born on horseback he looks expectantly at his guests as he waits for them.

Brennan raises her left foot and places it in the stirrup, she grasps hold of the front of Nero's saddle and with one quick pull she's up and throwing her right leg over. Booth watches her impressed as she settles herself and checks her hold on the reins, clearly his partner really has done this a few times before.

Far more nervous than he's willing to let on in front of Brennan, because he really wants her to enjoy every remaining moment they have here at Berkley, Booth copies Brennan's actions precisely and to his amazement finds himself mounted easily. Caesar looks even bigger from up here he thinks and the ground seems a very long way below him, but he takes a firm hold on the reins and as Richard and Brennan lead off, he gives his mount a gentle kick and Caesar obediently follows the other horses down the driveway.

To Booth's sincere appreciation, Caesar really is a gentle and patient animal, with very even paces, and by the time they cross the road at the bottom of the driveway and make their way onto the open castle fields to the south, Booth is feeling much more confident that his limited riding skills have re-awoken.

His confidence is soon put to the test when Richard suggests they let the horses have their heads and gallop, Booth nods his agreement, but as Brennan and the Earl take off across the field, he kicks Caesar into a more sedate canter and allows the other two to outpace him. He catches up with them ten minutes later as they wait for him to join them at the top of the hill. Booth notices how flushed and excited Brennan looks, she's radiantly happy at this moment, and his gut twists with guilt that he hasn't seen that look on her face and in her eyes in so long he cannot remember the last time she appeared this way to him.

Silently he vows to himself once more that never will he be the one to cause her unhappiness, and never will he allow anything, or anyone to pull his focus from her for any length of time again. Whatever happens in their future he is committed to seeing it through with her, no matter the obstacle no matter the argument. He wasn't kidding when he told her the other night that he lives for her . . . he does . . . because she's his future as well as his past, the only future he wants.

And he wants her so badly. He's literally aching with it all the time now. He hasn't pushed her since the night of the Ball, he's given her time to accept that he really has come for her, broken it off with Hannah for her. He can tell she's been a little afraid to cross that final barrier, because Hannah is still so recently in his past, and he's actually flattered that it means so much to her. Brennan has always been so open about her sexuality and her physical needs. In the past if she's wanted to scratch that physical itch she simply took a lover and did the deed no feelings and no strings attached. The fact that she's now placing taking their relationship to that stage on so high a pedestal, that she clearly, desperately wants it to be perfect for them. This tells him so distinctly that she's finally figured out the difference between making love and having sex . . . ironic he thinks that she finally gets it when he's so recently been kidding himself in that regard. Telling himself that he was making love when he was with Hannah when his protesting, strangled heart was lamenting vehemently that he was only having sex.

Seeing her today, on Christmas Eve, with the winter air making her cheeks all rosy and her clear blue eyes sparkle; watching her laugh at something Richard is telling her, while she absently pats her horse's long neck affectionately. Booth feels the pain of their now over separation band around his heart one final time, and then as Brennan looks over at him and he sees so clearly her love and devotion to him shining in her gaze the bands snap and disappear and he suddenly knows that she's ready. That tonight, when he goes to bed it'll be with her, and he'll get to give her what he wants most to, himself, nothing held back, just all his love for her in its physical form.

He feels his face light up in way he doesn't recognize and he watches as a startled expression crosses Brennan's face before she suddenly smiles back, and then nods, just once, so fleetingly he might have imagined it. But he didn't, his heart knows he didn't, and trying to contain his anticipation he simply focuses on the rest of the day one moment at a time.

They ride for a couple of hours, stopping for lunch at a local village pub they dine like kings on sandwiches and beer before re-mounting and heading back to the castle, as Richard tell them he doesn't want to cripple them or have them be too sore. Dismounting both Booth and Brennan find their legs feeling like pieces of chewed string, and laughing they thank Richard warmly and trying to hold each other up they make their way back to their rooms before they part at Booth's door with a kiss that's long and filled with promise.

As their kiss ends Booth rests his forehead on hers and asks her simply. . .

"_You will stay with me tonight . . . won't you . . . did I read you right?"_

Brennan tips her face up to look at him, she finds herself blushing which hasn't happened to her in more years than she can remember, and she smiles shyly, almost afraid to trust her voice she nods once more.

"_I knew what that look, that smile was asking earlier Booth . . . and yes . . . I can't think of anything I could want more for Christmas this year than you . . . than being with you."_

She kisses him once more, quick and hard, before she leaves him staring after her as she calls over her shoulder.

"_You'll be stiff and sore if you don't go and have a long hot bath Booth . . . and you don't want to be anything less than physically able now do you?"_

She disappears around the corner leaving her laughter trailing behind her and Booth heads obediently into his room and towards his bathroom. Sore is something he doesn't need for sure . . . stiff on the other hand he's pretty convinced he's going to be tonight anyway you slice it!

They dine with Richard in his apartments that night; in relaxed comfort they make a meal of appetizers, cheese, fine wine and crackers. They watch festive nonsense on Richard's flat-screen TV and when ten-thirty rolls around and everyone begins yawning, by mutual agreement they call it a night.

Richard walks them back to the public side of the castle, hugging them both warmly he wishes them a 'Merry Christmas' and asks them to come back and have breakfast with him late on Christmas morning. They thank him and agree and Richard watches them walk away hand in hand with a very wistful but happy smile playing across his face.

Without discussing it they end up at Booth's door, and suddenly all trace of sleepiness vanishes in the both of them.

Brennan turns towards him, her face down and her gaze on their joined hands, her stomach feels like it's full of thousands of butterflies and on the one hand she feels silly because it's not like she's a virgin or something, she's done this a lot before, and on the other hand this is Booth . . . this is BOOTH . . . and that's everything.

So recently she thought, she truly believed this was something she'd never have; that her chance, her moment to experience this with him was lost forever. And that loss, it was devastating, crippling and so, so sad, a sadness that permeated her every waking minute and most of her sleeping ones too, leaving her living in a state of limbo unsure of where she stood or where she went from here.

Now that he's here, now that her chance, her opportunity to seize what she wants most has been offered once again, she knows she's going to grab for it, that she'll take this chance with him and give it everything that she has in her to give . . . but she's uncertain how to start, and afraid, truly afraid that somehow she'll fail to measure up. Oh not physically, because she's aware she's beautiful, but in some indefinable nameless manner she wouldn't begin to know how to describe. She wants to just picture the two of them, to see only their love for each other when she closes her eyes, but Hannah and that whole situation . . . it's so recently that Booth was with her, was making love to her . . . but for Brennan its been an age where there has been no-one.

Her reverie is broken up by Booth's deep, quiet voice.

"_It wasn't making love Bones . . . with Hannah I mean. I wanted it to be, I told myself it was, but I swear to you I'm telling you the truth when I say that my heart always knew differently. I desired her, I did, she was a beautiful woman, but there is still a difference between gratified lust and making love to someone. With you it will always be making love Temperance . . . because I've never loved a woman as I love you."_

He squeezes her hand where it lies engulfed in his larger one. His free hand tips her face up to meet his gaze and she cannot deny the truth shining there, or how good it feels that he somehow knew exactly the path her thoughts were taking.

"_I'm as nervous as you Bones . . . probably more so."_

She doubts it, but she can feel his hands trembling slightly and he always has such steady hands, it calms her somewhat.

Taking a deep breath as her heart rate accelerates, she stretches up to kiss him, and what starts out sweet and slow gets out of hand really quickly. Booth fumbles in his jeans pocket for his room key and somehow he manages to get the door unlocked, both of them through it, deadbolt the door and push her up against it hard, all without breaking the kiss.

He ravishes her mouth, his lips demanding both her participation and her surrender, his tongue thrusting deep and claiming every corner for his own. Breathless, forced almost to breath through him she matches his intensity with a rising passion of her own and spearing her fingers through his hair she holds him too her.

Though she's been delaying this, the sheer freedom that comes with knowing they don't have to stop, with knowing that he will soon be hers, and be sheathed within her, her heart soars weightless and giddy with delight she clings tighter to him.

She tastes sweeter, more addictive every time he takes her mouth. The scent of her hair, the perfume of her skin, tangles itself in his brain and drowning in it he wonders how he lived before when he couldn't do this with her.

That moment, so many years ago when he walked into her lecture and saw her for the first time, he relives that moment as he kisses her now and somewhere deep inside him something nameless breaks loose as the promise he saw in that moment finally begins to fulfill itself. The first time her looked upon her beautiful face his heart recognized that this was the ONE, the girl he'd been waiting for and through the intervening years and everything that has happened between them his heart has never wanted anything but this.

No matter what his brain told it, that there was a line, that she didn't feel it, that she wasn't capable of being this way, that he was moving on, that Hannah was an acceptable substitute, all these lies his heart heard and promptly ignored and though he suppressed and denied as well as he could, it feels so good now to acknowledge, and acknowledge physically that his heart was right.

He feels her fingers slide from his hair to his shoulders and then down his chest to pull his t-shirt up, and he breaks from their kiss just before she strangles him with it, taking it from her and pulling it over his head, flinging it forgotten to the floor.

Bare-chested he resumes his assault on her mouth and when her fingers go to the buttons on her simple blue blouse he stills them with his own and takes over for her, popping each button carefully until the garment parts and he can break from their kiss again to look down and appreciate all he's uncovered.

Brennan's skin is pale against the dark blue fabric, her breasts enclosed in a simple white bra. There is only one lamp on in the room, by the far side of the huge bed, and though moonlight floods through the open curtains in the dim light her skin gleams, white and flawless.

Unable to help himself his hands rise and push the fabric down her long slender arms, tugging at her hands the blouse yields and falls away, allowing him to press against her skin with his body as he tugs her once more into his arms.

He kisses her temple this time, then down the side of her face and by the time her starts on her neck she's panting and arching in his arms silently pleading. He kisses down onto her shoulder, taking the strap of her bra in his fingers he pulls it down as his mouth follows, once the strap has been dealt with he pushes the fabric from her breast so he can continue his exploration unhindered.

He kisses across her chest slowly, silently torturing as he refuses to go where he can tell he's most desired. He lifts his head to kiss the temple on the other side of her face and laughs wickedly when she groans her protest but endures as he repeats all his actions on the other side.

He bares both her breasts to his hungry gaze and then he reaches behind her, pops the clasp of her bra and the garment joins her blouse in a puddle at their feet. Booth takes a moment to simply look at her, naked from the waist up and Brennan lets him, she's unselfconscious about her body, and the naked appreciation glowing in his dark eyes is just appreciated confirmation of what she knows. That her form is pleasing, that to him, to most men, she's lovely. Then he looks up, looks right at her, and the glow of appreciation changes, transforms to wonder and suddenly it's hard to breathe as she catalogs the emotions in his eyes. Love. Lust. Adoration. Devotion. Desire. Need.

Need almost more than anything is what she sees; a need to possess, to protect, to claim and to make right. A need almost overpowering in that it will be life-long, that it will never die, or fade, in anyway, shape or form.

A need that mirrors the one burning within her for him, for all he is, all he makes her feel, all he can teach her and learn from her, and give her and share with her.

For only he has ever seen her for all she truly is, and she suspects now the same is true of her. That she is the one person hes ever known who not only knows everything, all the good, the true, the honest and honorable, but also all the bad, the selfish and ugly things and loves him for all of it because together they can be not only whole, but a sum far greater than their individual parts.

They move back into each others arms as one.

As one they shed their remaining clothes and sweeping her up and into his arms Booth carries her across his huge room and tumbles her down onto the bed.

Her thighs part and he slips into the cradle of them, covering her body with his bigger, harder one and rejoicing in the sensation of her naked along the length of him. No barriers either physical or mental exist between them and its soul-wrenching delight to feast on her mouth as she lies beneath him.

Her hands map his muscle groups, smoothing over his smooth hot skin and reveling in the strength she detects in those muscles as they bunch and move under her fingers. He's an almost perfect specimen of a man, tall, lean, well-muscled and handsome and yet where once these were her only requirements in a lover they are but a small part of her desire for him.

Joining with him, giving herself to him, giving him pleasure and taking her own, she's frantic in a way shes never felt but not because he's gorgeous it's all because he's Booth. And she loves him, and knows him, and trusts him above all others and values his life, and his presence in hers more than anything else. The ache between her thighs and the empty desperate feeling of incompleteness are because she really does feel like half of a whole right now, and only when he takes her will that sensation be gone.

She shifts beneath him, she can feel him, hard as granite against the soft swell of her abdomen but as she tries to move so she can encase him he pins her squirming body and breaks from kissing her to stare down determinedly into her eyes.

"_Stop it. Let me love you Bones . . . I want everything . . . don't fight me."_

She glares at him, but it has no affect, she squirms again and he only holds her firmer.

"_Now Booth . . . please . . . just do it." _ Gasping she pleads with him.

He shakes his head. Then slips down her body and pushes her thighs wide with his shoulders. Brennan shudders and head falling back against the bed she lets him do what he will.

Booth holds her lower body motionless, breathes deeply of her scent and smiling purely to himself he lowers his mouth to her.

Wits fragmenting she gives herself over to his pleasure, and as he loves her expertly she feels herself pushed higher, then pulled back only to be pushed higher again, a rhythm he continues until she's sobbing, begging him to end the torture and let her fly.

He raises his head for a brief moment, glories in the sight of her sheeted with sweat and arching in ecstasy, and then he returns his mouth to her, exulting when she screams for him as she comes apart.

He can take her now.

He surges up the bed and poised at the entrance to her body her waits impatiently for her to calm only enough to open her eyes and look at him. It's imperative that she looks at him, that at this moment when for the first time she becomes his, she's looking into his eyes and he can witness her awareness of his possession of her body.

Desperate, his body screaming and his control in smoking ruins he calls to her.

"_Bones . . . baby look at me . . . open your eyes Temperance . . . please."_

Her lids flutter open, dazed and adoring she smiles weakly, but she focuses on him and his reins finally give. One thrust, deep and sure and finally he's home.

He sees her eyes flare, then fill with tears and he's amazed to find his own eyes filling up also. So much emotion, so much love, and so much wasted time when they should have been together . . . his body starts to move and he can't hold it back, she joins him, and it's like hes never done this before because everything feels new.

Their gazes are locked, one on the other and it's unbreakable, and neither can look away.

Like a single entity they move in harmony and around them the world falls away, all awareness falls away and there's nothing in the world but this expression of what they feel. It goes on forever and yet in no time at all they're there . . . on the brink, poised on the edge of that ultimate physical release, that mind-numbing, earth-shaking, soul-searing pleasure.

One final kiss, one final thrust and together they soar. Booth can feel her all around him, the totality of his universe as he spills himself within her, sharing every part of himself with the woman he adores.

He collapses on her and Brennan's arms tighten around him immediately, greedily she holds him to her, his weight welcome, and the intimacy of the moment is nothing shes known before him. He remains within her and she still feels like she can't tell where she ends and he begins and though she's sated to her toes she wants to do it all over again.

This then is making love, and it's not her thought, or his thought, but their thought, and as he turns his head to look at her, still unwillingly to shift off her though he knows he's heavy, Booth smiles the happiest smile shes ever seen and Brennan returns it, her soul in her eyes.

"_I love you."_

It comes out in unison, and in the wake of it they laugh hysterically, the pure joy of the moment only fuel to the fire.

Booth rolls over onto his back and Brennan snuggles up along his side, her head pillowed on his shoulder and her thigh slung over one of his. Booth kisses the top of her head and holds her tightly, and as Christmas Eve becomes Christmas Day they fall asleep cocooned together as destiny always intended.


	32. Epilogue

Epilogue: It all worked out eventually . . . .

Berkley Castle, England

September, 1817

Bastian paced the castle hallway like a tiger looking for it's last meal, fear and frustration pouring off of him in such palpable waves that every castle resident was steering clear of him until given a reason not too.

As he turned for the thousandth time at the stairwell and headed back the way he'd come, he wondered if the carpet runner covering the floor was showing signs of wear yet as he'd been at this for hours. Eleven hours so far and with every minute that ticked by he grew more and more anxious. When Therese had first told him she was expecting their first child, Bastian's heart had positively soared with happiness, and even though his family were of course hoping for a son and heir, personally he didn't give a damn he was just honestly thrilled at the prospect of becoming a father.

Then after a few months the reality of Therese facing the dangers inherent in childbirth began to weigh on him. Women died everyday in childbed, or of post-childbed fevers; wonderful, loving, vibrant women. Healthy women like Therese. It began as a small knot of fear and over the months, as the time of Therese's confinement grew closer, the knot grew and grew until he was driving Therese positively demented as he tried to coddle her to an insane degree.

Therese herself was not worried in the slightest, handling the prospect with a calm assurance Bastian envied but couldn't find.

The thought that he might lose her, that this was something he not only could not protect her from, but had actually caused to happen – he was after all the reason his wife was pregnant, it gave him nightmares.

He'd been forced to live without her once, he knew, none better, that he'd never survive it again.

A life without her held nothing in it worth living for – nothing – thus the sheer paralyzing nature of his fear.

And here he was, stuck in a hallway, not allowed to see her, pacing and pacing while he waited for news and prayed with every fiber of his soul that it would be good. The only acceptable outcome was Therese's continued existence, he didn't want to lose his child either, but at least that he could overcome.

Reaching the door to his wife's chamber again he fought back the urge to barge in and demand to know what was happening, Therese was attended by her maid, and a midwife and the finest doctor London had to offer was standing by. His step-mother Alathea was also there, and since Alathea and Therese had become very accepting of each other the last few months, he was somewhat glad she was there to offer her support to his wife during her labor.

Pausing outside the room he listened carefully but could only hear muffled sounds. Therese was not one to scream if she was in pain, and though he'd heard some sounds that had distressed him the last few times he'd stood here, he could not tell what was currently going on.

Bastian sucked in a huge cleansing breath and forced himself to head for the stairwell again.

He got two thirds of the way down the hallway when he heard a door open behind him, and whipping around he saw Alathea emerging from Therese's chamber, evidently looking for him.

He was in a flat sprint in three paces and there at the doorway in twenty.

"_What is it . . . is Therese okay . . . what's going on Alathea?"_

Alathea took a long look at her stepson, and inwardly marveled anew at the transformation that love had wrought on the once rakish Earl of Gloucester. His handsome face was twisted in distress and the gut-wrenching fear visible in the depths of his dark eyes was completely haunting. She made quick to reassure him.

"_Calm down dear boy, Therese is fine . . . she's doing well and your child is here Bastian . . . a son and heir."_

She sees him absorb the information and watches fascinated as his face goes from agony to utter joy in the span of a heartbeat.

"_A son . . . and Therese is okay . . . you're quite sure?"_

Alathea nods and then gestures for him to follow her. _"Come and see for yourself Bastian, your wife is asking for you." _She says.

His heart is practically trying to beat its way out of his chest, but Bastian meekly follows Alathea into Therese's chamber. From her position propped up against a mountain of pillows in her bed his wife smiles at him. An exhausted, somewhat dazed, but ecstatic smile and Bastian crosses the room swiftly and falls to his knees beside the edge of the bed. Nestled in Therese's arms, Bastian gazes down at his son, swaddled in blankets and nursing at his mother's breast. A small red face and masses of dark hair are all he can really see but as he stares awed at this tiny human he is responsible for his wife's soft voice reaches him.

"_He looks just like you my love . . . isn't he beautiful? Oh Bastian, this is the most wonderful thing that has ever happened."_

Bastian tears his eyes from the baby and looks adoringly at his pale tired wife, her face looks a little wan but her expression is utterly serene, her blue eyes sparkling with endless love and happiness.

"_Tell me you're alright Therese . . . that everything is well."_

Therese frees a hand and reaches out to stroke the side of his face tenderly. _"I am fine Bastian, stop worrying. We are both of us healthy, there is nothing to fear, be happy my darling . . . help me decide on a name for your heir."_

A name . . . of course; they have discussed lots of names the last eight months, both male and female obviously, but now that the baby is here a decision must be made. Bastian looks down at his tiny son again, leans over and brushes a soft kiss to the downy head, breathes deeply of the baby's pure smell. None of the options they've talked about seem to fit, and he doesn't know why, then as he looks back into Therese's sparkling eyes it comes to him and he smiles widely.

"_William Robert Augustus Berkley." _Bastian's chosen names seem to fit at once. Therese's eyes mist up as she looks at him. Her father, her brother, and her husbands own middle name . . . it's perfect.

"_Robert will be overjoyed." _ She says tearily, _"As would my father have been. Thank you Bastian."_

Bastian takes her hand in his and this time when he leans over it's to kiss her briefly before he rests his forehead on hers.

"_I love you Therese, today, tomorrow, fifty years from now, it will never change or alter, only grow ever stronger, ever more enduring. You make me the happiest man alive my love and you forever will."_

Brennan's Office, Jeffersonian Institute, Washington D.C.

January 1st 2011

Booth stopped just outside Brennan's office to take a moment for himself and just _look_ at her, she's engrossed in something on her computer and fiddling with his dog tags as she's been doing since he gave them to her on Christmas Day; he smiles inside every time he sees her do it. He's come to drag her away from here and over to Hodgins' and Angela's house, where a New Year's Day celebration is in full swing to welcome in the coming year and say goodbye and kinda good riddance to the old one and all it's associated baggage.

He hadn't wanted Brennan to come in at all today, but since her stay in England had gotten extended she'd felt compelled to go over everything that had been done by her interns during her absence, and make sure it was all up to her exacting standards. Knowing her 'squinterns' as he did, Booth doubted she'd find anything to complain about, and he really wanted to go and hang out with their friends and enjoy really being a part of their Jeffersonian family again – something he'd stupidly let slide while involved with Hannah.

Being back at home again is strangely new and exciting now that their partnership is functioning on every level it can. They have not field tested it with a new case yet, but he has not the slightest doubt that they will still be a well oiled machine as an investigative pair, even as they are also new lovers who act like an old married couple most of the time.

Being with Brennan, really being with her, making love to her, and sharing everything and every part of his life with her; Booth feels like he's walking on air right now, literally floating around on a cloud of pure happiness. He's never, ever, been as happy, as content and as fulfilled as he is now, now that they've finally come together in all ways and are truly sharing one life.

And Brennan, if he's happy, then she's blissful, because he's never seen her like this, so serene, so completely glowing with contentment. Every time he looks at her he marvels anew at how this happiness she feels shines out of her like a beacon that everyone around her can almost reach out and touch.

He falls more in love with her every moment they spend together, something that should not be possible and yet is a simple truth. It actually scares him a little, because he cannot for a moment comprehend living without her now, which is scary, and yet he also cannot forget that Sebastian felt the same way about Therese, and if Bastian lived with it okay, then Booth knows he will too.

It was hard to leave England and Berkley behind, for him and especially for Brennan. Saying goodbye to Richard, thanking him for everything he'd done for the both of them was trying, and yet Booth feels as Brennan does that they've both made a lifelong friend in Richard, and in Berkley found a special, almost magical place that they will re-visit again and again. Brennan was adamant that they commit to booking themselves in for three weeks in the upcoming summer before they left, and already Booth is looking forward to going back, he thinks Brennan might actually be counting the days – she loved it so much.

Brennan looks up from her computer as he stands thinking and staring at her, Booth smiles and enters the office wondering when she figured out he was there.

"_I'm ready to go Booth . . . just finishing up and sending a Happy New Year email to Richard."_

Booth smiles at the warmth in her voice as she mentions the Earl.

"_Hope you sent it from both of us Bones, he's my friend too." _He teases.

Brennan smiles as she shuts down her computer and grabs her jacket from the back of her chair. _"I told him we both send our love and hope that he's still committed to coming for a visit before March . . . I really want him to meet everyone and after all he did for us, it'll be fun to return the favor, plus I think he's lonely and it worries me."_

Booth steps close to her and wraps her in his arms, sighing as she burrows close and buries her face against his neck as her arms encircle him.

"_That's sweet Bones . . . but don't worry to much about Richard, he's rich, handsome and titled, some lucky woman will come along and snatch him up, you mark my words."_

He feels Brennan nod, her warm lips brushing over the sensitive skin of his neck and sending shivers down the length of him – God what she does to him, it really shouldn't be legal!

'_She'll be a very lucky woman whoever she is Booth, Richard is wonderful . . . just like you, and as the lucky woman in your life I speak from personal experience here."_

Brennan lifts her head from his neck as she says this, and the loving adoration in her eyes fills Booth's stomach with butterflies. She reaches up to kiss him, slow and thorough, and though they've been doing this a lot, making up for so much missed time, every time she kisses him it's like the first, there's that same thrill, that same spark.

When she breaks the kiss Booth groans, he's already hard and aching and suddenly he just wants to ravish her on the nearest available flat surface and the party at Hodgins' be damned.

Brennan tugs at his hand and pulls him protesting after her. _"We promised Booth . . . and seeing us together is what they all want most to celebrate . . . you can have me later."_

Booth groans again at the images his mind has conjured up, but he follows her meekly, helping her into her coat as befitting a proper gentlemen.

"_You promise Bones?" _He whines.

Brennan stops, turns, smiles up at him and tells him simply . . . _"I promise Booth, later, tomorrow, fifty years from now . . . forever."_

And laughing, hand in hand, they leave to find the rest of their family.

***The End***

**Authors Note: Holy hell it's finished! I can hardly believe it and I'm sad and happy all at the same time. I really, really hope everyone who has read this story in its entirety is happy with how things turned out – I know I am, but it would be really nice to hear it from all of you. Happy New Year folks, hope you'll all join me for the next one which will be posting soon.**


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